


His Camera Captures Moments

by kankrisredsweater



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Divorce, Drunkenness, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Friends to Lovers, Humanstuck, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Unhappy marriage, young adults trying to adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 86,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kankrisredsweater/pseuds/kankrisredsweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Egbert finds a forgotten photo album on the bus full of beautiful snapshots of a mysterious woman in red sunglasses, he embarks on a mission to find the owner of the photographs - and the brilliant photographer who took them - that will change the course of his life in ways he never could have imagined.<br/>-Complete-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Photographs

When John Egbert woke up, he was surprised to find the sun streaming through his curtain. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him. Sunshine, in Seattle, in _May_? Unheard of. John knew that today was going to be a day worth remembering. 

After showering and pulling on clothes haphazardly, John glanced at the clock. It was 7:30, and he was right on time. He did a quick once-over of his appearance in the mirror. His black hair stuck up everywhere, regardless of how hard he tried to tame it, so he’d long since given up on trying. His square-framed glasses sat a little askew on his nose, but other than that he felt he looked pretty presentable. 

John grabbed a bagel from the bread drawer and gripped it between his teeth as he grabbed his keys with one hand and shrugged on a light coat with the other. He debated for a moment about the coat – it was nice out – but this was Washington and it could very well be pouring rain later. John locked the front door behind him and headed for the bus station. 

It was still a bit chilly outside, but John didn’t care. This was a morning to appreciate things. He appreciated the natural light beaming on his face, no matter how weak it was. He appreciated the hesitant trill of birdsong as two sparrows flitted above him. He appreciated his little townhome in his pleasant neighborhood, even though it was a little bit cookie-cutter. He appreciated the closeness of the bus station to his home, and he appreciated that the buses to Seattle were always on time. 

At 7:35 precisely, his bus arrived, and Vantas, his grumpy bus driver, rolled open the doors for him. “Good morning!” John chirped. As usual, Vantas grumbled something about overenthusiasm, but much more halfheartedly than usual. The nice weather was apparently enough to make even the grouchiest city bus driver hate the world a little less.

The bus was empty, just like John was used to. Most of the commuters who lived in John’s neighborhood drove into the city since it was a trek that took under ten minutes, but John wasn’t a huge fan of driving. He owned a car, an unassuming beige sedan, but he much preferred walking around. He felt that people often undervalued public transportation. Without it, John wouldn’t be able to see Vantas’ scowling face every morning, and well, that was just a shame.

“How have your routes been this morning?” John asked Vantas cheerily.

“For the love of fuckin’ Christ, kid, why do you always insist on making conversation with me every single goddamn day?” Vantas grunted. 

“Because I assume it’d get kind of lonely, driving in the same loop all day,” John replied. His smile hadn’t budged an inch, despite Vantas’ general unpleasantness.

“Trust me, you ain’t makin’ things better,” Vantas grouched. “But if I have to answer your question, then so fuckin’ be it. My route has been fine. Dropped a couple people off at Sea-Tac, came and picked up your obnoxious ass. Business as usual.”

“Boy, that sounds fun,” John responded enthusiastically. He liked playing this game with Vantas every morning. Vantas would whine and hurl insults, but John suspected he liked being talked to. He probably didn’t have that many people ask him how his day was, or even his name.

“Hey, why don’t I know your first name?” John asked, suddenly concerned as to why this hadn’t occurred to him before.

“You never asked,” Vantas said gruffly. 

“Well I’m asking now,” John said earnestly.

“Fine. ‘S Karkat,” Vantas said, seeming to spit the name out. “Weirdest fuckin’ name, I dunno what my parents were thinking.”

“I like it, it’s cool!” John exclaimed. “And I’m not even saying that just to screw with you, I honestly think it’s cool!”

“Well, that makes one of us,” Vant—no, Karkat said, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“I’m gonna call you Karkat from now on,” John decided aloud. Karkat groaned. John grinned and sat back against the scratchy cushion of the bus seat, admiring the almost-cloudless sky. Suddenly, something shifted slightly in the reflection. John turned around.

Sitting on the seat across from him was a… something. John picked it up and examined it. It looked like a book of some kind, but the binding was very wide and the cover was hard and smooth, too flexible to be plastic but too smooth to be wood. John turned it over. Embossed in the corner, with tiny golden letters, were the letters D.S. Huh. John decided to flip open the book and see what was inside.

It became apparent that it was not a book, but rather a photo album. Instead of pages, clear plastic sleeves were buckled into a metal 3-ring binder. The one in the front was a beautiful landscape shot. John recognized it immediately as a Puget Sound sunset; fingers of gold and crimson and violet reached beyond the dark indigo clouds, behind the jagged outline of the mountains. It was a beautiful photograph, like something that belonged on the back of a postcard.

He flipped to the next one. An albatross perched on the edge of a rotted wooden dock, preening itself in a stately fashion that still seemed slightly comical due to the stumpy ridiculousness of its appearance. He could almost hear the keening of gulls and the crashing of soft waves against the shoreline. John marveled at the detailing on the feathers. Something like this belonged in National Geographic, to be sure.

He turned a few more pages. The next ones looked to be in a forested area, probably one of the hiking trails that were common in the Seattle area. A tiny crayfish perched on a stone as a creek bubbled around it. Trees cloaked in dark green whispered secrets on the breath of a soft breeze that tickled their branches. John was transfixed by the photos, each seeming to come to life before his eyes. 

The next picture he turned to was different than the others. It was a nature shot, like all the others, but taking up the left half of the photograph was a person. The figure appeared to be female, given the curve of the shoulder and the straight black hair that fell to her shoulder blade. She was turned away from the camera, and John could barely discern the outline of the side of her face. She was overlooking Puget Sound again, seeming to stare across the water, which churned steely gray from the gathering storm clouds. The woman was obviously beautiful, even though John only had a cropped view of her head and right shoulder. The photograph was so… _mysterious._

The next photograph featured the same woman; or at least, John assumed it was the same woman, because the hair was the same, but the shot was wider and captured more of her posture. It depicted her right side; she leaned over the railing of a dock, wind whipping her hair behind her. Her flowing dress was black and a muted teal, and it rippled out behind her. She looked away from the camera, but John could see she was wearing sunglasses of some kind. It was a stunning photograph.

“Oi,” Karkat snapped, bringing John back to reality. The bus had stopped at the station, and Karkat had twisted around in his seat to stare at John.

“Oh, sorry!” John said, closing the photo album with a snap. “Thanks for the ride as usual, Karkat!”

Karkat rolled his eyes at the sound of his name. John clambered out of the seat and off the bus, finding himself on the downtown Seattle sidewalk that led to his workplace. He was the manager of a local joke shop, and while it wasn’t extravagant, it was popular enough with kids and tourists to stay open and make profit. 

As the bus pulled away, John realized he was still clutching the photo album in his hands. Whoever this belonged to was probably sorely missing it. John knew that he definitely would be panicking if the album had belonged to him. But he had – he checked his watch – fifteen minutes until Prankster’s Gambit was open for business, and he didn’t have time to run all over Seattle looking for the owner. Hell, he didn’t even know what he would ask. 

Once John arrived at the shop, he stowed the photo album on the shelf beneath the cash register. It sat there the entire day, and John’s mind kept straying to panoramic shots of the Sound and the mysterious woman in black and teal. Business was slower than usual, and at about 7:30, John decided to close shop. He grabbed the photo album on his way out. 

Much as he wanted to keep the snapshots for himself, John knew that the right thing to do was to find the photographer and return the album. He supposed he could probably ask Karkat about it, since he’d found the album on the bus. That would be his first stop, then.

The bus rolled up, but to John’s chagrin, he didn’t recognize the driver. He supposed that this was due to the fact that he was catching an earlier bus than usual, but it did sort of put a damper on his plans. He supposed he could wait here for a later bus, but that would be a waste of time. He realized that the bus driver was looking at him impatiently, waiting for him to board.

“You gettin’ on or what?” the driver asked.

“No,” John responded, hearing the word tumble out of his mouth before he even realized he’d thought it. The driver shrugged and closed the doors. John’s shoulders sagged as he watched the bus pull out.

 _Welp,_ he thought, shrugging. _Guess I’m not going home yet._

John sat down on the bench next to him, absent-mindedly opening to a page in the album. It was another photo of the woman, her face similarly obscured, but John noticed an array of shops in the distance behind her. Maybe if he could find the shops, he could find someone who might have seen them.

John Egbert stood up again. He was twenty-four years old, and he was on a mission.


	2. Lost and Found

John was surprised at how difficult it was to navigate the touristy areas of Puget Sound. Having grown up in Washington, he had been on his fair share of visits, but always during times when tourist activity was pretty low. However, it was May, and the weather was still gorgeous, and somehow the streets were still crowded at nearly 8:00 at night. He nudged past groups gathered outside bars and clubs, trying to make his way to the waterfront. He gripped the photo album tightly, terrified of losing it.

John reached the railing that overlooked the sound and looked around. Goddammit, why were there so many docks in Seattle? He glanced down at the photo again, looking for a frame of reference. After meandering past ferry terminals and boat launches, John finally recognized one of the stores in the background of the photograph. He approached it purposefully.

John reached the dock in question and positioned himself directly where he thought the photographer might have been standing. There were three storefronts facing him, not to mention a few patrol officers milling about. John decided to check with the officers first.

He approached one, a wiry-looking guy not much older than himself. The officer was casually smoking a cigarette, his eyes sharp behind wide-rimmed glasses. His nametag read E. AMPORA.

“Excuse me, Officer Ampora?” John asked, his eyes flicking to the nametag and back. The officer took a long drag from his cigarette and raised one eyebrow in response.

“Yeah, hi, so this might seem kind of weird, but do you recognize this woman?” John showed him the picture of the woman on the dock. “I found this photo album on the bus today and I’m trying to figure out who it belongs to.”

Officer Ampora’s eyebrows furrowed as he examined the picture closely. John tensed a little when he realized how dangerously close the officer’s cigarette was dangling over the album. He breathed a little sigh of relief when the officer drew back.

“Yeah, I recognize her, she wwas here a feww days back,” Officer Ampora stated. John noticed a weird lilt in the way he said his w’s, but decided against commenting. “She had this tall blond guy wwith her, taking pictures. Probably these pictures, actually.”

Tall blond guy. John made a mental note to remember this, although he did find it frustratingly unhelpful. “Did you get a look at her face?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Officer Ampora said after a moment, as if trying to remember. “She wwas real pretty, and she had these wweird pointy red sunglasses. Dunno wwhat that wwas about. Did I answwer your question?”

John nodded. It really wasn’t much to go on, but it was better than nothing. He thanked the officer, who gave a brief nod and returned to his cigarette. John decided to try some of the shops, thinking that maybe the tall blond guy and the woman in the picture had gone on a buying spree or something.

Three of the shop owners he asked hadn’t seen her. However, the fourth one he asked lit up when John showed her the photograph. John was honestly surprised; this particular establishment was a pet shop. What would the photographer and his – wife? girlfriend? – be doing in a pet shop?

The shop owner smiled widely at John, her light green eyes sparkling. “These two came in two days ago! I remember because the tall, handsome man in the black sweater wanted to look at some birds.”

“Birds?” John prompted.

“Oh, yes. He was even playing with one of our canaries for a while,” the young woman said, gesturing at a large cage in the corner of the shop which contained a flurry of brightly-colored feathers. “But it pecked him, and he called it a brainless feathery asshole, and then they left,” she trailed off. John wasn’t quite sure how to respond. However, she perked up again a few moments later. 

“And do you remember anything else, Miss…?” John asked.

“Oh, ‘miss’ nothing, call me Nepeta,” said the owner brightly. “And the only weird thing I noticed was that they both kept their sunglasses on inside the store the whole time. His were just normal and black, but hers were shiny and pointy and fun! Hey, anyway, why are you so curious?”

“Well, I found this photo album on the bus this morning, and the pictures are beautiful, and I just want to return them to their owner,” John explained. Nepeta squealed.

“Oh, that’s so gallant of you! Is there any contact information in it, maybe?”

“I’ve checked the front and back covers,” John said. “Nothing. Only a little monogram in the corner down there.” He pointed out the gold lettering.

“ _D.S._ How mysterrrrious,” Nepeta grinned, seeming to almost purr the last word. “Well, I hope you find them! Good luck, Mr. Photo Album Man!”

John thanked her and left the shop. It was getting to be pretty dark, so John made his way back to his bus stop. He got there just as his usual bus pulled up. 

Karkat rolled the doors back for him, and he climbed into the seat right behind the driver. John opened the photo album again. The pictures were so glossy and stunning, and once again, he was blown away by how real they seemed.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Karkat commented, drawing John out of his reverie.

“Karkat, do you remember the people you dropped off at the airport this morning?” John wondered, remembering what Karkat had said about his passengers to Sea-Tac. 

“Yeah, probably, why?” he said. “And stop fuckin’ calling me Karkat.”

“Was one of them a tall blond guy wearing sunglasses?” John asked, ignoring the second half of Karkat’s statement. 

“Yeah. And the other one was this lady with these awful goddamn pointy red sunglasses,” Karkat said. “Why do you even care?”

“They left something on the bus,” John said, absentmindedly thumbing the plastic sleeves that protected the photographs. 

“Well what do you want me to fuckin’ do about it?” Karkat asked. “Not like I asked them their goddamn names or anything, I mean I could report it to the bus company, but it’s not like those assholes inventory all the random shit that gets left on the buses.”

“Nah, that’s fine, I’ll take care of it myself,” John decided. He would rather know that the photo album was safe instead of crammed in a bucket with forgotten jackets or purses or god knows what else. 

Karkat dropped John off at his bus station, offering him a slight nod of good luck as he exited. John waved a thank-you at him before making his way home. He entered his apartment and sank onto the futon in his living room. He flicked the television on, but paid it almost no attention. 

John decided to look at all of the photos individually; he’d been in kind of a rush that morning, and apart from the first few, he hadn’t really gotten to see most of them. They were all breathtaking; about half of them were scenic, and most of those were shots of Puget Sound at various points during the day. The other half featured the mysterious woman. She never looked directly at the camera, and John realized that there wasn’t a single shot of her from the front. It was driving him crazy. 

John found himself thinking not about the woman, but about the photographer. Sure, the woman was beautiful, but there was something simplistically ingenious about each of the shots. She never looked exactly the same in any of the pictures, each frame accenting something different. Whoever engineered these shots must be a genius. John suspected that most of the shots were candid; no one could tell a model to stand like that. No one could script the calm pensiveness that echoed throughout all of the photos. Whoever took these photographs simply knew exactly when a moment was worth capturing.

John realized that he had a photo album, not of pictures, but of moments.

Something caught his eye on the back of one of the pictures, the same side-view shot with the breeze causing the woman’s dress to fan out behind her. Scrawled in dark red pen was a short verse.

_I lean my love back_  
 _And kiss her tenderly_  
 _As the wind carries off our worries._  
 _\-- For T. Love, D.S._

John wondered if T. was the woman in the photograph. There were those initials again, D.S. John was almost certain that they belonged to the photographer. He read the words again, unable to stop the giddy smile that was spreading over his face. D.S. was probably one of those super cheesy guys who could charm his way into anyone’s heart with a few well-placed, flowery words. And yet, what kind of guy could take those emotions and turn them into a photograph? Not many, John concluded. The longer he looked at the photograph, the more it felt like he was seeing the woman through the photographer’s eyes rather than his lens. And wow, that took talent.

John wondered if there were any other messages to T.

As it turned out, there were. Most of them were on pictures of her, but there were a few landscapes that bore tiny love letters as well. The first picture in the album had a message that read:

_You and Me and the Endless Sea_  
 _Puget Sound, Washington_  
 _I love you, T._  
 _\--D.S._

That seemed like the title of a poetry book written in the nineteenth century. John almost wanted to laugh at the corniness, but it seemed so genuinely sincere that he couldn’t bring himself to. Well, whoever T. was, John was glad she’d found someone to cherish her like this. The world needed more people like D.S.

John had an idea. He ran into his bedroom and rummaged through one of the drawers in his desk until he found what he was looking for: his old point-and-shoot camera. It was nothing special, obviously not as high-quality as the one that took the photos in the album, but it did the job. John carried the photo album into the kitchen where there was better light. He turned on the camera and snapped a few photos of the album. 

John brought the album with him as he took the camera over to his computer. He was the only one in the house, but he felt weird leaving it out of his sight. He uploaded the pictures from his camera to his computer and opened a word document.

**FOUND: PHOTO ALBUM  
Belonging to one D.S., containing photos of Puget Sound and other Seattle locations. Album is light brown with a monogrammed corner. If this belongs to you, please contact John at the number listed below. **

John added his number at the bottom and dragged the pictures of the album into the document. Perfect. He printed out about forty copies. He figured that if he posted these around the Seattle area, someone might recognize it. Although D.S. and T. had probably flown home by now, maybe they had family in the area or something. It was worth a shot, anyway.

The next morning, John was excited to get to work. The sky wasn’t as clear as it had been the day before, but it was still warmer and the clouds weren’t nearly as threatening as they usually were. John rode the bus, engaging in his usual banter with Karkat, and as soon as they reached John’s stop, he was out the doors.

He opened Prankster’s Gambit, taking care of his usual housekeeping items in record time. He was glad he wasn’t the only one working today; he’d recently hired a kid fresh out of high school named Equius. He was polite and respectful to the point of deference, and even though he made John a little uncomfortable, John knew he would follow orders.

John decided to leave Equius in charge, confident that he could hold down the fort. He began taping his flyers onto free surfaces. Most of them hung along the waterfront, since John suspected that if anyone was going to look for their album, they’d go there. He said hi to Nepeta again, who was very pleased to display one of his flyers in her front window. 

Once he was out of flyers, John headed back to Prankster’s Gambit. He was proud of himself for pursuing this so doggedly, but part of him really didn’t want to give up the photographs. They were so beautiful… Anyway, John knew that there was nothing left for him to do but wait.

And wait he did. John hadn’t expected any calls right away, but after four straight days of radio silence, he was beginning to have his doubts. Most of the flyers had stayed up despite the light rain that was beginning to descend on Seattle again, so it wasn’t like the information wasn’t out there. He’d had a few prank calls, mostly from drunken college kids out on the Sound, but nothing of significance.

Nothing, until _she_ called.


	3. Spur Of The Moment

John answered the phone on the fourth ring. He was kind of in the middle of something really important, and he didn’t notice his phone go off at first. He became aware of the buzzing, and paused the movie just as Nic Cage was extending a dirty stuffed bunny to dear, sweet Casey. He wiped a manly tear from his eye with the back of his hand and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the photo album?” came a woman’s voice. It was clear and cool, the sort of ambiguous female voice that John would expect in an elevator. “Oh! Yeah, hello. My name’s John Egbert, I found the photo album on the bus last week. Do you recognize it?” John rattled off very quickly. In his excitement he forgot about his Con-Air-induced emotional turmoil.

“Yes, I think I do,” said the voice. “My name is Rose Lalonde, by the way.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Rose,” John said. “Would it be okay if we set up a time to meet, just so I can check and make sure you’re not just saying that it’s yours?”

“If you insist,” Rose said, but she didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, she was amused. “I’ll be in Seattle on Saturday. We could meet at the Starbucks near the waterfront at about ten in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me!” John agreed. 

“All right, I’ll see you then! Thank you, John,” Rose said before hanging up. John just looked at the phone. Rose, huh. Maybe Rose was the woman in the photographs, and T. stood for a nickname or something. It was all very strange, but John was excited to finally discover the identity of the mystery photographer.

Saturday came around, and John decided to drive into the city rather than take the bus, since he didn’t know how long the meeting would take. He parked outside the Starbucks Rose had mentioned and checked his watch; he still had about ten minutes before Rose’s declared meeting time. 

John walked in and was greeted with the familiar aroma of chocolate and espresso. He’d never been a big fan of coffee, but the weather was dreary again and John felt justified in his venti hot chocolate with two pumps of caramel and extra whipped cream. He sipped his sugary drink carefully so as not to burn his tongue and sat down at a small raised table next to the window. He laid the photo album on the table in plain sight so that Rose would know who he was.

A few more people came in to get drinks, and John tried not to creep on them. None of them resembled the woman in the photographs. John looked at his watch again. It was ten o’clock.

The door opened again, and John looked up. Walking into the coffeeshop was a young woman. She was a little bit shorter than John, with a soft blonde bob that was pulled back by a purple headband. She was wrapped in a similarly-colored peacoat, and she glanced around the coffeeshop a few times instead of heading straight for the register.

She locked eyes with John, and then noticed the photo album sitting in front of him. Her face broke into a smile, teeth shining almost blindingly behind lips covered in dark lipstick. It would have looked severe on anyone else, but she seemed so sincere that John didn’t think much of it. She approached his table.

“Excuse me, are you John?” she asked in the same elevator-lady voice that John recognized from the phone call. He stood and extended his hand to her.

“I am! And I suppose you’re Rose?” John asked. 

“I am. It’s nice to meet you, John,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Likewise!” he said. He decided he liked Rose. She’d looked a little scary at first, but her general demeanor was very calming.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a quick minute, I’m going to go order my drink,” she said, smiling apologetically.

“Take your time,” John assured her, and she headed to the register. John was a little confused. She definitely wasn’t the woman from the photographs. Even in a wig, she was too short and her facial features were too soft. Where did she fit into this mess? 

Rose returned, clutching a cinnamon dolce latte in her black-gloved hands. She took a seat opposite John.

“Thank you again for finding the photos,” she said, gesturing to the book on the table.

“It was no problem, they were just sitting on the bus seat and I happened to notice them,” John explained again. “They’re very beautiful,” he added.

Rose chuckled. “My brother would be glad to hear your say that.”

John was startled. “I’m sorry, your brother?”

Rose nodded and opened her purse, pulling out a small picture of two people. John recognized the one on the right almost immediately. She was the woman from the photographs, all right. She looked a little different head-on, but she was still pretty. The man next to her had slung an arm over her shoulders and was making the most incredible poker face John had ever seen. His expression was inscrutable behind dark glasses. Soft blond hair fell into his eyes. Nepeta was right; he was handsome.

“This is my brother, Dave, and that’s his fiancée, Terezi,” Rose explained, pointing. Ah yes, D.S. and T. Wait, D.S.?

“Didn’t you say your last name was Lalonde?” John asked. 

Rose smiled. “Technically, yes, that is my legal surname. But it’s my mother’s maiden name. I got it changed legally in a fit of alcohol-fueled feminism in college, and I still liked it whilst sober, so it stayed.” There was a twinkling in her eyes that made John unsure about whether or not she was joking.

“Our given surname was Strider,” she continued, directing the conversation back to Dave. “So yes, his initials would be D.S. like the ones on the cover of the album.” John traced the monogram absent-mindedly. 

“Anyway, he and Terezi live in Houston. They took these pictures last week when they came up to visit me. I live in Tacoma, so the drive to Seattle wasn’t that far, and Dave was so excited to get to take pictures,” Rose said. There was something inexplicably sad in the way she talked about the pictures, but John wasn’t quite sure why. The wistful look in her eyes disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

“Look at me, rambling about my family like an old maid. Tell me, what do you do, John Egbert?” John almost didn’t expect the question. This meeting was turning into a veritable get-to-know-you rather than the quick goods exchange he’d been anticipating, but he didn’t think he minded.

“I’m the manager and co-owner of Prankster’s Gambit,” he said. “It’s actually just down the street. Vintage joke and magic shop, complete with the rubber chickens and trick cards and all that jazz.” John grinned and added some jazz hands for effect.

“I’ve heard of it,” Rose said. “The kids I see speak very highly of it. Especially the teenaged ones, everything is ‘retro’,” she grinned, making finger-quotes around the last word.

“It belonged to my grandma,” John said happily. It wasn’t often he got to talk about his store; most adults viewed it as rather childish, but John loved it, and he loved talking about it. “My dad inherited it after she passed away, and I basically grew up there, what with babysitters being expensive and all.”

“No mom?” Rose asked. “Sorry, rude question, must be my inner therapist speaking, it’s hard to separate work from life,” she said, backtracking quickly.

“No, it’s fine, honestly,” John assured her. “Nope, it’s always been my dad and me, as long as I can remember. I don’t really know what happened to her, and I kind of don’t want to, because I’m happy right now and I’ve never known anything else.” John paused for a moment. “Wait, why did I tell you that? I’ve never told anyone that.”

“It’s not just you, people tend to tell me things,” Rose laughed. “I like to think it’s because I’m easy to talk to.”

“You mentioned you were a therapist, right?” John asked. 

“Mm-hmm. Marriage and family therapy. I counsel couples, most of them on the brink of divorce. It can be stressful, but a lot of the time it pays off,” Rose said. 

“Wow, that’s really cool, I could never do something like that,” John said, impressed. He could barely handle his own awkward love life, let alone others’. 

“It’s a talent,” Rose laughed. “And so, I’m sure, is managing a retail store when you barely look like you’re out of high school.” 

John smoothed his hair and laughed. “I’m twenty-four, thank you very much!” he exclaimed in mock indignation.

“You’re Dave’s age, then,” Rose said. “He’s the baby of our family.”

“You have other siblings?” John inquired.

“Two,” Rose said. “And they’re both older than me. Roxy’s a character. She’s a burlesque dancer in New York, and she’s the classiest and strongest lady I’ve ever met. She taught me everything I know about being too honest for my own good.” Rose laughed a little. “Dirk is a year younger than her. He’s a mechanical engineer and he runs a few seedy websites on the side for fun. He’s always been the entrepreneur.”

John was fascinated. He didn’t have siblings, but he would have liked some. The closest things he had to siblings were his cousins. Their parents had died when John was really little, and had been raised by John’s grandparents. John had spent lots of time with them as a kid, but after Nanna had died, Grandpa had wanted a change of scenery and decided to relocate to some jungle island. John saw his cousins periodically, but not often enough to develop the kind of relationship with them that Rose seemed to have with her siblings.

“So what about Dave?” John asked. He didn’t want to seem creepy, but he was itching to know more about the photographer who could make still photos come to life.

“Dave is interesting,” Rose said, choosing her words carefully. “He’s always been kind of a lost puppy, if that makes any sense. He has a lot of interests, but he’s never really pursued any of them. Honestly, I thought the kid was going to graduate college with a degree in undecided. He’s dabbled in poetry and photography, and he’s really good at playing turntables or whatever it is that DJs do. Right now he works at a nightclub, but it won’t last him forever. He’s the sort of person that will cross that bridge when he comes to it.”

John was intrigued, to say the least. Dave sounded a lot like himself. John had studied biochemistry in college, but had always known he was going to inherit the shop, so he hadn’t tried that hard. He liked biochemistry, but he’d never felt the need to become some hotshot scientist and discover the secret to cloning humans or anything. Like Dave, John knew that he couldn’t stay at Prankster’s Gambit forever, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. 

Plus John really, really, _really_ wanted to talk to him about the photography.

“Would it be weird if I hand-delivered this to him?” John wondered aloud, indicating the photo album.

“I doubt it, Dave’s a weird guy and he would probably just go with it,” Rose said reasonably. “Why?”

“This sounds super creepy, but I want to meet him,” John confessed. “He’s got so much talent. He could do so much with this.”

“I see,” Rose said, sounding very therapist-like as she leaned back, peering down her nose thoughtfully. “It might do him good to hear that, actually. Here’s his address.” Rose pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and jotted down some lines. “Once you know when you’re going to be down there, just give me a call and I’ll let him know. How’s that sound?”

“Awesome, thank you so much,” John said, taking the paper from her and stowing it in his pocket. “And, Rose?”

Rose looked up and caught his gaze.

“We should do this again sometime. Get coffee, talk, all that stuff,” John said. Rose raised an eyebrow. “No, like, not as a date, like a friends thing, like I think you’re really cool and yeah,” John rushed to correct her. She chuckled.

“I’ll be back in Seattle in a week for work. Same time, same place?” she asked.

“You got it!” John said happily. He collected the photo album from the table, bade Rose goodbye, and returned to his car.

If someone had told John a week ago that in seven days he’d be booking a flight to Houston to return a photo album to a man he’d never met, John would have laughed. He was never one for spur-of-the-moment adventures, but this was certainly spur-of-the-moment. Once his tickets were ordered, he sent the information to Rose. She confirmed it, and now all John could do was wait for Monday.


	4. The Photographer's Lover

John had taken the next few days off of work, leaving his dad and Equius in charge of Prankster’s Gambit. It had been tricky explaining to his dad why he was flying to Texas, and John wasn’t sure his father had completely understood, but he’d stopped asking questions so John figured that was as good as parental approval.

He stood at his bus stop an hour earlier than usual, a small suitcase in tow. The bus arrived, and Karkat opened the door with an amused smirk on his face.

“Your clock an hour off or somethin’?” He asked.

“Nope! Different destination. To Sea-Tac!” John announced.

“Where the fuck are you even going?” Karkat asked, swinging the doors closed. “From your nonstop babble I’ve pretty much gathered that everyone you know is here in this shitty state.”

“Texas,” John answered. “Remember those two people you drove to the airport last week?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you still obsessed with that photography bullshit? Egbert, you’re such a goddamn idiot, sometimes you make me want to crash this fucking bus so I don’t have to listen to your horseshit,” Karkat complained. John just smiled. He knew Karkat was only giving him a hard time.

The ride to the airport was a little longer than John’s usual trip, but he didn’t care. When Karkat dropped him off, he grunted a quiet “good luck” that John only barely heard. John turned around and gave him a double-thumbs-up and a wide grin before the bus doors rolled closed. John was in a good mood. His flight didn’t leave for an hour still; he was right on time.

The airport wasn’t terribly crowded, and it didn’t take long for John to pass through security. He had fit enough clothes and stuff for a few days into a small suitcase, which saved him the hassle of checking luggage. He made his way toward his gate, walking at a rather leisurely pace. When he arrived, he was pleased to find that his flight was just starting to board. John was flying economy, which suited him just fine; he had no need for extra-comfy chairs or pillows or any of the other nonsense that would have cost him another fifty bucks.

John had flown a few times before, and he’d always loved the feeling of soaring high above the surface of the earth. He was glad to have procured a window seat, and when the plane finally took off, he gazed out over the rapidly-shrinking roads and harbors of northwest Washington. The flight attendants came around with little bags of pretzels and flat soda. The flight only lasted several hours, but due to time zones, it was nearly four in the afternoon when the plane touched down in Houston.

The first thing he noticed about Texas was that it was _hot_. The late-afternoon sun bore down on John as soon as he stepped out of the airport. He could feel sweat beading uncomfortably along his hairline and down his back. Jesus, how did people even live down here? Even though it rained a lot in Washington, at least John was able to breathe and not feel like he was gasping for air.

He hailed a taxi and directed the driver towards a cheap hotel he’d found on the Internet. It was only a few miles from Dave’s house, which was good because John had decided to forgo a rental car and travel around on foot, which was going to be hell in this heat. He was grateful for the taxi’s air conditioning.

John hadn’t realized how tired he was until he’d flopped onto the stiff bed in his hotel room. The springs in the bedframe squeaked and protested at his weight, but he bore them no mind. He turned his phone back on to shoot off a text to his dad, letting him know that he’d arrived safely.

John was surprised to have a message from Rose.

Hello, John! It’s Rose. Just thought I would check in and make sure you arrived in Texas safely. 

John smiled as he replied with a quick affirmative. He was glad Rose had been so understanding about this, weird and unprecedented though it was. John pulled the photo album out of his suitcase, where it had been wrapped in a towel and wedged between his clothes for maximum safety. His fingers dragged over the glossy pages again. John was a little upset about giving them back, but he knew he was doing the right thing.

John’s stomach flopped weirdly when he thought about the next day. He hadn’t expected to feel this nervous. _Shut up_ , he thought. _Dave’s just a normal dude who just happens to take beautiful pictures. Don’t make this weird_.

He hoped Terezi would be happy to have the photos back. Girls were all over that sort of sentimental romantic stuff, right? She must know how lucky she was to be engaged to this man who had worshipped her so with his camera.

John closed the photo album, struck with a sudden inexplicable sadness. He wondered when he’d become so attached to these photos of a woman he’d never met taken by a man he’d never get the opportunity to know.

John drifted off into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of pointy red sunglasses and a slight breeze on the waterfront of Puget Sound.

~

He awoke to a thick, heavy sunlight pouring in through the windows. Jesus Christ, even the _sunbeams_ were unnaturally warm. John rolled out of bed and shoved his glasses onto his face, listening to his joints pop as he stretched.

After a quick shower to wash away the sheen of sweat that had accumulated on his body overnight, John dressed carefully. He never had much occasion to wear short sleeves in Washington, so the t-shirts he owned weren’t necessarily the most stylish. He pulled a thin white shirt emblazoned with the Ghostbusters logo over his head, deciding that this would have to do. He pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and finger-combed his thick black hair.

John pulled on his worn sneakers and tucked the photo album under his arm. He’d googled directions from the hotel to Dave’s house and stuck them in his pocket, just in case he got lost. John took a deep breath. It was now or never.

The walk was excruciating, to put it nicely. Half an hour under the blazing Texas sun, and John was pretty sure he could feel his flesh cooking on his bones. He silently gave thanks that he didn’t sunburn easily. He really hoped that the photo album wasn’t going to be damaged by the awful humidity. John clutched the book with a renewed fervor, trying to ignore the drops of sweat that trailed down his back and neck. Ugh, why would _anyone_ want to live here?

John finally reached his destination, and he found himself to be rather surprised. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been expecting, but the apartment complex just looked so _normal_. Gray-beige buildings with solid black doors stood in rows, completely unassuming and inconspicuous. It was hardly the place that John expected to find a brilliant modern photographer.

He found the building and number that Rose had indicated and took a deep breath. His heartbeat quickened as he raised his hand to knock on the polished wood. He hoped this was the right one. He suddenly realized that he had no idea what to do or say when Dave opened the door. He decided that this plan could have been much more thought out.

There were a few moments of heavy silence after John rapped his knuckles on the door. Then, he heard the creak of a doorknob and the door cracked open a few inches.

“Hello?”

That was not the voice of a man, John determined. It was shrill and thin, like a birdcall. John caught a glimpse of red glass.

“Yes, hello, is this the residence of Dave Strider?” John asked, realizing his voice was trembling slightly.

“Yes, and may I ask who you are?” The other voice asked again. He realized that she sounded just as nervous as he did.

“My name is John Egbert, I’m here to return something of his,” John explained. The door opened fully and John’s breath hitched when he saw who stood on the threshold.

It was Dave’s fiancée, Terezi. She was shorter than John, almost coming up to his nose. Her dark hair hung loose and framed her rather gaunt face, which was partly obscured by severe red glasses. John was awestruck. It was still a little weird seeing her from the front, and John noticed that the photography had softened a lot of her features, which seemed rather pronounced in the bright Texas sunlight. She was dressed simply in a teal tank-top and a pair of loose-fitting black shorts, and she held a smooth wooden cane in her right hand.

“Right, yeah, he mentioned something about someone coming today,” she said. “It’s about the photo album, right?”

“Mmm,” John confirmed. He was a bit confused. She didn’t seem nearly excited about the photos as John had expected her to. He hadn’t wanted her to gush and cry and hero-worship him for returning them, but the way she asked the question seemed rather businesslike. John wasn’t sure what to think about it.

“I’ll just put them on the counter for when he gets home,” Terezi said. Her gaze didn’t seem to quite meet John’s when she spoke, which he found a little off-putting despite the fact that her eyes were obscured.

“I’d kinda like to give them to him directly, actually, if that’s okay,” John stammered. He wasn’t sure why she was rubbing him the wrong way, but there was something about her that threw him off. She was nothing like the mysterious woman in the photographs, who seemed so pensive and thoughtful, if not a little mischievous. No, this woman was different.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but he won’t be back for a while and I wouldn’t want to have you wait around all day.” Her words seemed clipped. It was a very weird reaction to someone receiving some lost vacation photos, and John was pretty sure he didn’t like it.

“Well, I can come back later when he’s home,” John countered. He wasn’t sure why he was so insistent on seeing Dave. Perhaps Terezi’s lackluster reaction to the return of the photographs made him want a more appreciative response. Perhaps he still wanted to put a face to the name of the man who could somehow infuse passion into a picture.

“That won’t be until very late this evening. I assure you, Mr. Egbert, that I will give him the photographs when he gets home,” Terezi said, extending her hand for the book. John gulped. There was something very final about the way she’d said those words, and John had never been the arguing type. With much internal anguish, he gently laid the book in her outstretched hand.

“Thank you for returning them,” she said, her voice oddly bereft of emotion. “Have a good day.”

John took this as his cue to leave. “You too,” he wished Terezi as he turned his back on her. As he walked away, he heard the door swing shut.

His mind was oddly blank during the walk back to his hotel room. As he fumbled with the card key, he suddenly wished he’d put up more of a fight. Meeting Dave had been the sole purpose of this trip. John was becoming increasingly aware of the silliness of his situation. He had been so caught up in going on an adventure, in flying halfway across the country to deliver a mysterious photo album to a complete stranger. He’d forgotten that his life wasn’t a Hollywood movie and he was stupid to have expected it to turn out any differently than it had. John felt anger, disappointment, and a strange sense of loss.

He glanced at the clock on his phone. Noon. He had an entire half-day in Texas before he needed to catch his flight back to Seattle in the morning. John didn’t know what he’d planned to do with this free time in the first place. He imagined what would have happened if Dave had opened the door instead of his fiancée. He liked to think that he and Dave would have hit it off. Dave would have been excited and incredibly appreciative about the return of his photo album. He might have asked how long John was staying in Houston. Maybe they would have gone out for dinner or drinks.

This plan was sounding more and more like a movie script the longer John thought about it. How could he have been so naïve? It was nice to think that he and Dave might have become friends, but realistically, John knew he should have foreseen this. Dave had a life down here, and John was just a random guy from Washington who had happened upon his photo album. John probably would have given the album to him and then they’d never see each other again.

 _Stupid stupid dumb_ , John berated himself. His phone buzzed.

How did it go?

John looked at the text from Rose and sighed. Why had she let him do this again? Why hadn’t she just taken the photos, thanked him, and been on her way? That’s what was supposed to happen in real life. He sighed as he typed a response.

Dave wasn’t home so I gave the pictures to Terezi. She seems

John paused. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe Dave’s fiancée. He had been going to type “nice,” but somehow his fingers wouldn’t press those buttons. But he didn’t want to rip on her to her future sister-in-law either. John had no idea about the dynamics of Rose and Terezi’s relationship, but he decided not to press it. He decided to delete those two words and just send Rose the first sentence.

Hmmm. I’m sorry to hear that. Well, it was worth a shot.

I offered to come back when he was home but she kinda shot that idea down.

That doesn’t surprise me.

John was a little taken aback with Rose’s response but decided to drop the matter. He changed the subject, asking her about work, and their text conversation continued until John realized that it was nearing dinner time and he’d spent the entire day lounging on his bed and texting, which had hadn’t done since he was an adolescent.

After a quick run to a nearby McDonalds, John opened his laptop to futz around on the internet for a while. His fingers left grease-stains on the keys, but he didn’t care much. Somehow, John found himself typing _Dave Strider_ into Google’s search engine.

Links to Facebook and LinkedIn profiles popped up, and John clicked through a few of them, looking for someone who lived in Texas or was interested in photography. His search produced no results, but he wasn’t really surprised. _Wow, trying to stalk a guy on the internet? What are you, thirteen?_ John chastised himself.

He could feel his eyes drooping and decided to hit the sack. John’s last coherent thought was that he should try to put Dave Strider from his mind. This few-week episode had been fun, but John knew it was time to return to normal life. He would fly back to Seattle in the morning and resume charge of Prankster’s Gambit.

He tried to ignore the small voice that said, _and then what?_

 


	5. An Unexpected Acquaintance

John’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he sighed audibly. He couldn’t think of anyone who would be calling him at work. Maybe it was his dad checking up on him; he’d returned from Texas a few days ago, noticeably tanner and a little bit moody. John hadn’t really wanted to talk about it, and his dad understood, but the man was a worrier and John knew he couldn’t help it.

John didn’t recognize the number on the screen. According to his caller ID, the call was coming from Texas.

Huh.

John picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, uh, is this John Egbert?” The voice on the other line was that of a man. It wasn’t terribly deep, but it dragged a little and pronounced the words with a light southern accent.

“Yeah, speaking,” John replied, suspecting that his brain hadn’t quite processed what was happening yet.

“John, hey, this is Dave Strider. You know. The guy whose photos you found.”

John felt a grin spread across his face. He had been secretly wishing that Dave would contact him, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.

“Oh, yeah, those!” John said, aware he was talking a little fast. “Yeah, I found them on the bus on my way to work a few weeks ago.”

“I can’t express how thankful I am,” Dave said, a little breathily. “They musta fallen outta my bag when we were on the way to the airport. Didn’t realize they were missin’ until we got home. I damn near had a heart attack. Called my sister in a fuckin’ _panic_. Few days later, she told me someone had found ‘em.”

“Yeah, well, that was me,” John said, laughing a little nervously. He liked Dave’s accent a little too much.

“Damn shame I couldn’ta thanked you when you were down here, though,” Dave said. “’Rezi just handed me the album and mentioned you’d dropped by, but I figured you were probably already gone at that point. But honest, man, I really just wanted to thank you straight to your face.”

“Yeah, not a problem,” John replied. “I looked through them though, I hope you don’t mind.”

“And?” Dave prompted a little hesitantly.

John struggled to find the right words. “They were… wow. I’ve never seen anything like them. How do you manage to make them so…” John trailed off, flushing a little. He didn’t have a word for what he wanted, but he hoped Dave got the idea.

“I pay attention is all,” Dave laughed.

“Do you pay that much attention to all your subjects?” John asked, eager to know more about his process.

“What d’you mean?” Dave sounded legitimately confused.

“You know, all the other things and people you take pictures of!” John said, unable to curb his enthusiasm.

“Those are the first photos I’ve taken in… shit, years, at this point,” Dave confessed after a short moment. John was completely floored.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John exclaimed. “There’s no way those photos weren’t professional! They’re freaking masterpieces!”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” Dave said appreciatively, but John could tell there was something else on his mind.

“Seriously, dude, you should have your own studio. You could make _bank_ ,” John suggested. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was desperate for more of Dave’s work.

“I’ve considered it, but Terezi wouldn’t like it,” Dave said, sounding a little sad.

“Why not? Has she _seen_ the photos?” John asked incredulously.

“No,” Dave said quietly. “She hasn’t. She can’t. She’s blind.”

John’s blood ran cold. _Oh_. That would explain the cane she’d had; John had been a little confused about it when he’d met her. It also explained why she’d been so nervous about answering the door.

“Well now I feel like a jackass,” John admitted.

“No, don’t, it’s cool, it’s all manner of cool,” Dave assured him. “She can get around real well, she knows her way around places better than I do. There was this weird fuckin’ accident when she was a kid, and she’s still pretty bitter about not having her eyesight anymore. She doesn’t like the idea of me workin’ in a field that basically requires bein’ able to see.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” John said sincerely. “You could make it big out there, dude.”

Dave made a small noise of acknowledgement. There was a brief pause.

“Well, thanks again for returnin’ the pictures,” Dave said, his tone dramatically different than it had been a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, it was my pleasure!” John said.

“Keep Rose in check, y’all seem to get along pretty well,” Dave joked. John laughed and assured Dave he would before hanging up.

John just stared at his phone for a few minutes. A strange sensation of pity swept over him. He couldn’t imagine being in Dave’s position, forced to choose between two things he loved. Wow, no wonder Terezi had been so cold to John when he’d returned the photos. They were just another reminder of the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see them. John hoped she’d at least be able to read the notes on the backs of the photos.

He was torn from his brooding thoughts by the sound of cackling laughter. A customer must have entered the shop while he was on the phone. John flushed a little as he pocketed his phone. How unprofessional.

The laughter came from one of the far aisles of the store. John decided to go investigate. The cackle belonged to a young woman. She was about John’s height, if not about an inch shorter. Her face was split into an unabashed grin that made her eyes crinkle behind thin-rimmed glasses. Curtains of dark hair streamed from her head and fell midway down her back. She was leaning on one hip, thumbing through a book of pranks.

“Can I help you?” John asked politely.

“Oh, I don’t know, _can_ you?” The woman asked, throwing him a smirk. Her eyes were gray-blue, and they sparkled somewhat mischievously. She struck John as the sort of woman one would expect to find wearing a leather jacket and riding a motorcycle. It was a little intimidating, but she was definitely pretty.

“Looking for anything specific today?” John recited his practiced helping-customers phrase halfheartedly.

“Nope, I’m just browsing. Wanted to see if I found anything I liked,” she said. John noticed her smirking at him again.

“And have you?” John asked.

“I might have,” the woman grinned, placing the book back on the shelf and turning to face him. She crossed her arms and transferred her weight to her other hip, seeming to size him up. After a few moments of silence, she straightened up and extended her hand.

“I’m Vriska. You’re cute. Let’s do dinner tonight.”

“I – uh – what?” John stammered. He shook her hand more out of instinct than anything. Vriska’s fingers were slender, but her grip was strong.

“You like seafood? There’s a great lobster place down by the waterfront,” Vriska continued, ignoring John’s confused expression.

“I – um – sure, yeah, seafood’s great,” he said, once able to form coherent words.

“Great! I look forward to it,” she grinned. “I’ll be back here at eight. That’s when you close on weekdays, right?”

She was indeed right. John nodded dumbly.

“Perfect. It’s a date then!”

Vriska sauntered past John and turned the corner. He heard the door swing open and then creak shut.

John wasn’t sure what had just happened to him, but he didn’t think he minded.

~

True to her word, Vriska popped her head into the door of Prankster’s Gambit at eight o’clock sharp. John had just finished locking the cash register and hiding the cashbox, and was straightening up the front counter.

“C’mon, let’s go!” she chirped.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” John laughed. He locked the front door of the shop and pocketed his keys. Vriska grabbed his hand and they immediately set off down the sidewalk.

“So, first things first. What’s your name?” Vriska asked brightly.

“I’m John,” he replied. “Do you make a habit of this? Surprising random store employees into going to dinner with you?”

“Only the cute ones,” Vriska grinned, her eyes twinkling again. John smiled in spite of himself.

“You from Seattle, John?”

“Lived here my whole life. You?”

John learned that Vriska had grown up traveling the world. She’d been to all of the continents and over a hundred different countries, citing the Philippines and Greece as her favorites. She was something of a history buff, fascinated especially with pirates. She was an only child, but she had a cousin named Aranea with whom she was pretty close.

As John listened to her talk, he was astounded by how _worldly_ she was. Hell, his own idea of an adventure was an uneventful two-day trip to Texas. But she had stories about safaris and art museums and war reenactments and all manner of things that transfixed him. He liked watching Vriska talk; she gestured with her hands a lot, and her voice raised a few decibels whenever she got excited or passionate about something, and John found himself really admiring her no-fucks-given attitude. Everything she did made him want to know even more about her.

The evening turned into night, and after nearly three hours of nonstop conversation, Vriska seemed to have talked herself out. John didn’t even remember tasting the food he’d eaten, but his stomach assured him that he had at least eaten something. He insisted on paying, despite Vriska’s protests – “If I’d known you were paying for me I wouldn’t have ordered _lobster_!” – and they exited the restaurant, fingers entwined.

It had been a long time since John had been on a legitimate date. There were a few girls he’d been interested in during college, but none of them ever seemed to stick around very long. He hadn’t really cared that much at the time, but as he walked with Vriska along the Sound, he realized how much he had missed this sort of companionship. John had never considered himself lonely, but he was beginning to think that maybe he was. Vriska’s thumb stroked his, and he smiled.

They meandered over to the railings at the edge of the waterfront. Vriska rested her elbows on the metal bar and leaned slightly against it. The city lights flickered on the surface of the water, and the night was cool and calm.

“I love the ocean,” she murmured. John made a small noise of assent. “There’s just so much out there, so much we haven’t seen. It’s incredible.”

John didn’t reply. He was vaguely aware that Vriska was looking at him. He turned his gaze towards her.

“Thank you for this,” he said sincerely. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

“Hey, anytime,” she smirked, although the expression was a little softer than usual. John leaned towards her just a little. She seemed to be doing the same. His eyes dropped to her lips, which had parted slightly. John decided to throw caution to the wind and bridge the distance.

His hands rested lightly on Vriska’s waist as he kissed her, slowly and almost experimentally. John could feel the corners of her lips turn up in a smile as she kissed back. It was a nice feeling, kissing Vriska. John was almost a little sorry to have to pull away.

There was a brief silence.

“Do you want to maybe come home with me?” John asked suddenly. The words tumbled from his mouth as if of their own accord. He flushed, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, wow, that did not come out the way I intended, um…”

Vriska was chuckling. “I would like that,” she grinned. “I would like that a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some Johnvris. :)


	6. Relationships Are Weird, Man

John woke up the next morning to his obnoxious alarm clock. He groaned and rolled over to hit the snooze button when his hand encountered bare skin.

Oh, yeah.

John blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. He reached over to the bedside table, slammed the snooze button, and clumsily slid his glasses onto his face. It was nine in the morning. Why the hell was his alarm going off at nine in the morning on a Saturday?

His eyes fell on Vriska’s sleeping form. She looked so peaceful. John watched the rise and fall of her shoulders for a few moments before he leaned forward and kissed one of them lightly. She stirred.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Vriska said groggily after a few moments. She uncurled herself and stretched widely. “Why are you up so early?”

“My alarm went off,” John explained. “Did you not hear it?”

“I’m a pretty heavy sleeper,” Vriska smirked.

“Well, you _were_ pretty tired out after last night,” John joked. Vriska socked him lightly in the chest and he laughed. She settled back down into the pillows. John heard his phone buzz on the bedside table. Who would be texting him?

Starbucks, same time as last week?

“Oh, shit!” John exclaimed, nearly dropping the phone. He had completely forgotten that he and Rose were going to get coffee again. Jesus, good thing he hadn’t slept through it.

“What’s the matter?” Vriska asked.

“I was gonna get coffee with a friend this morning and it totally slipped my mind,” John fretted, running a hand nervously through his hair. Vriska sat up.

“What time?”

“Ten,” John said. “Jesus Christ, Vriska, I’m so sorry.”

“Not a bother,” she said brightly. “I did only just meet you yesterday, after all. Far be it for me to disrupt your plans.”

John hoisted himself out of bed and pulled on the nearest pair of pants he could find. Vriska watched him in amusement. In fifteen minutes, they were both completely dressed. Vriska was wearing the same clothes as the day before, but it was raining and she didn’t protest when John threw her one of his jackets. They walked together towards the bus stop.

Karkat rolled back the doors, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw Vriska clutching John’s hand. John merely smirked at him when they boarded.

“So who’s your lady friend, Egbert?” Karkat asked, doing a very bad job at hiding his amusement.

“Lady friend _nothing_ ,” Vriska said before John could respond. “My name’s Vriska.”

“Pleasure is all mine. You have no fucking idea,” Karkat said, grinning at John through the rearview mirror. He wore his shit-eating grin the entire ride, and when they reached John’s usual stop, he muttered, “Proud of you, kid,” as John got off the bus.

Vriska faced John as soon as the bus had left.

“So last night was great. Let’s do it again sometime. I left my number on your kitchen counter,” Vriska said. She was the same spunky girl John had met yesterday, eyes fiery and bright.

“I’ll call you,” John promised.

“Have fun with your friend!” Vriska said. She kissed John’s cheek and left. Once she was out of sight, John checked his watch again. He had five minutes to get to Starbucks.

He was a few minutes late, but Rose didn’t seem to mind. Hot chocolate in hand, John joined her at the same table they’d sat at last time. As soon as he lowered himself into his seat, he realized that Rose was smiling knowingly at him.

“Oh, what’s that face for?” he asked. It was hard to believe that he’d only met Rose last week. She was just so easy to talk to, and John felt as though he’d known her his whole life.

“What’s her name?” Rose asked, eyes crinkling as she smiled.

“How do you even _do_ that?” John asked, astounded.

“Relationship psychologist. I know an I-just-had-sex face when I see one. What’s her name?” Rose prompted.

“Oh. Uh. Vriska Serket,” John said. “She kinda accosted me in the shop yesterday. I don’t think I said more than three things to her before she asked me out to dinner. It was great. We talked. Well, she talked, I listened mostly, but it didn’t even matter! She’s got so many amazing stories, Rose.”

“I’m sure she does,” Rose chuckled. “You took her home after knowing her less than a full day? I wouldn’t have expected it of you, John Egbert.”

John considered this for a moment. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. “I wouldn’t have expected it of me, either, to be honest. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time. I dunno, is that bad? Dating isn’t exactly my forte.”

Rose seemed to choose her words carefully. “I’m not going to say it’s always a bad thing. It doesn’t sound like you went out with her with the intention of sleeping with her. But you look like you had a lovely time, and as long as she did to, I’d say full steam ahead!”

“She left her number on my kitchen counter,” John said, aware that he was grinning like an idiot and totally not caring.

“Well, I’m glad for you,” Rose said warmly.

“What about you? Are you attached?” John asked.

“As of now, no. I’m waiting for the right person to come along,” Rose said, looking down in an attempt to hide a small smile.

“Have you got someone in mind?” John grinned.

“I might,” Rose said coyly before changing the subject.

It was easy and fun talking to Rose. After coffee, he went home and called Vriska to set up another date. John smiled. He finally felt as though he had some sort of direction in life. It was a good feeling.

~

John’s dates with Vriska kept getting longer and longer. It started when she and John realized that she’d accidentally stayed for a full weekend. John became accustomed to the extra toothbrush on his bathroom counter and the _taptaptap_ of Vriska’s laptop whenever he came home from work. Vriska was an online advice columnist, and as such she generally worked from home. John couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to her own house. John didn’t mind. He liked the company.

He went out for coffee with Rose every week. John suspected that this vaguely annoyed Vriska, but she never said anything to him and he knew better than to bring it up. He hadn’t experienced a fight with Vriska yet, but something told him it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Late spring had turned into late summer, and it was three months to the day that Vriska had all but kidnapped John from the shop. He picked up some flowers from a boutique down the street and ignored Karkat’s comments (“You’re so fuckin’ whipped, dude.”) on the way home.

When he opened the door, he immediately smelled something burning. John realized that two candles had been lit and were sitting on the table.

“Vriska?” John called. He suddenly became aware of the swanky jazz music wafting softly from his bedroom.

The door opened, and Vriska emerged. Her hair cascaded down her back and curled up around her shoulders, which were bare. She was clad in satiny blue lingerie and the way she was leaning against the doorframe made John bite his lip a little.

“Welcome home,” she purred, walking slowly across the room towards him. He felt his knees go a little weak.

“What’s the occasion?” John asked with a soft laugh as she reached out her hand, her sultry gaze on him.

“I want to make tonight special,” she said simply.

“I’m so damn lucky,” John whispered to himself, letting Vriska lead him into the bedroom. She unbuttoned his shirt slowly and deliberately, pushing it off his shoulders and sliding the sleeves down his arms. She pushed him lightly back onto the bed and climbed gracefully on top of him.

John let his head fall back, relishing in the soft kisses and nips she planted along his neck and jawline. Vriska usually liked being in charge, but this was different.

Her lips played about his earlobe, and he was just ready to give a little sigh of pleasure when she whispered, “I love you.”

John froze.

“What?”

Vriska was suddenly sitting back on her heels, wearing a worried look that didn’t quite fit her attire.

“I said… I love you,” she confirmed, her cheeks flushing.

“Vriska… I…” John started, but somehow he couldn’t continue. He wanted to make his mouth form the words _love you_ but his facial muscles weren’t listening to him. He lay there, propped up on his elbows, mouth gaping. The stunned silence was far too long.

“This was a bad idea, never mind,” Vriska said, shrugging. She climbed off of John and turned off the music before shrugging a shirt over her head.

“Vriska, wait,” John pleaded, sitting up. “Let’s talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” she asked, her eyes getting fiery again. She began to pace.

“You! This! Everything!” John exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

“I wanted tonight to be _special_ ,” she snorted. “I’ve never said that to anyone before, you know? I kinda wanted it to be momentous.”

“Come on, Vriska, sit down, please,” John said weakly. Her pacing was making him a little nervous.

“Don’t tell me what to do, John,” Vriska spat. The words hung in the air like the aftermath of a gunshot.

John swallowed. “Vriska, you know I care about you a lot, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You know what? Shove it up your ass,” Vriska said angrily as she yanked on a pair of pants. “Think on it. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” She stalked out of the bedroom. John sat there in shock, listening as she blew out the candles, grabbed her bag, and left, slamming the door behind her. That had not gone according to plan.

~

“Well do you love her?” Rose asked simply after John had finished yelling and making frustrated noises into the phone.

“Yes! Maybe? I don’t even know, Rose. How the hell am I supposed to know? I couldn’t even say it, even though I wanted to.”

“Can you say it now?” Rose prompted. John took a few deep breaths.

“Yeah, I think I can,” he said after a few moments.

“Try it,” Rose suggested.

“Vriska… I… love you,” John said. He felt a shiver run down his spine and realized he was grinning.

“I love her, Rose,” John breathed. Rose gave a twinkling laugh.

“I suspect you just felt really pressured by her tonight and you didn’t want to say something you weren’t sure of,” Rose posited. “If you feel like you love her, then you do. That’s my personal, non-therapist opinion.”

“Shit, Rose, she’s really mad at me,” John sighed.

“You said she’d be back tomorrow, right?” Rose asked. John made an affirmative noise. “I may have an idea…”

~

 _Rose is a jerk_ , John thought as he grimaced. He suppressed a shiver.

He heard the doorknob twist and felt his stomach sink. This was it. It was now or never.

“John?” Vriska’s voice was wary, as if she was on edge. She gasped a little.

John turned on the radio in his room. Swanky jazz music drifted out into the hallway. John opened the door and stepped out into the living room.

“John, what the hell are you wearing?” Vriska asked. He tugged at the blue satiny material of his boxers almost subconsciously. _Rose is such a jerk_. John held out his hand with his best attempt at a smoldering gaze. Vriska took his hand uncertainly. He led her into the living room.

 _I love you_ was spelled out in candles. One of Vriska’s hands went to her mouth.

“I’m sorry I was such a douche,” John said, breaking the moment a little.

“This is so unbelievably cheesy and lame,” she said, and John realized she was snickering. “You’re such a dork, John. Apology accepted.”

John breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, I believe we have unfinished business to attend to,” Vriska smirked. She hooked a finger over the waistband of John’s boxers and dragged him toward the bedroom.

 _Well, maybe Rose isn’t such a jerk after all_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Johnvris because I can ~


	7. The Wedding Date

John Egbert was finally confident that his adult life was beginning. He had an awesome live-in girlfriend, a stable job that he enjoyed, and a best friend that he could tell _anything_.

And he did. John had been nervous about coming to Rose for relationship advice, feeling like he was taking advantage of her therapist training, but Rose was almost more eager to dole out opinions and suggestions than John was to receive them. He also found that he needed her advice more and more frequently lately.

Telling Vriska he loved her had changed something in their relationship. Vriska had sold her own apartment and moved in with him. It had been amazing at first, but John noticed that she had been a little more inquisitive of his whereabouts and a little more protective of him when he mentioned his friends, which had led to more than a few bickering arguments. He noted that Vriska was especially suspicious of his relationship with Rose. John hadn’t told Rose this because he didn’t want to accuse her of anything, but he knew that Vriska was highly uncomfortable with the frequency with which he talked to Rose.

“I dunno, she’s so clingy lately,” John admitted to Rose one day at their usual Starbucks table. One of Rose’s eyebrows arched in a _tell-me-more_ expression. John was more than happy to oblige.

“She doesn’t like it when I stay late at Prankster’s Gambit, I haven’t had a weekend to myself in _ages_ , and honestly... I’m getting a little worried.” Hehad been afraid to say this, because he didn’t want to jeopardize anything he had, but he knew Rose would understand.

“Well, pardon the insertion of my personal opinion, but everything seems to have moved a little fast between you two,” Rose said carefully. “You have been together for a little over four months, and you’ve already exchanged I-love-yous and are living together.”

“Are you saying you think we’re going to break up?” John asked anxiously. He had been afraid of this.

“I didn’t say that, John,” Rose said, eyes widening. “I’m just pointing something out. Has she met your dad yet?”

John shook his head. He’d been suggesting it, but Vriska seemed weirdly averse to the idea. John suspected that she wasn’t really the meet-the-family type. And she definitely didn’t like the idea of meeting Rose, even though John had invited her to coffee a few times.

It came as a surprise, therefore, when the door to the coffeeshop opened and Vriska crossed the threshold. She made a beeline for John and Rose.

“Hi there. Rose, right? I’ve heard so much,” Vriska said sweetly, extending a hand to Rose. John didn’t like the tone of her voice; it was much too friendly. Rose didn’t appear to notice, and if she did she wasn’t letting on. She shook Vriska’s hand politely.

“I’m Vriska. John’s girlfriend. I’m sure he’s told you about me?” Vriska continued, dragging a chair almost obnoxiously across the tile flooring and placing herself between John and Rose.

“Plenty,” Rose said, her demeanor friendly. John could almost feel the temperature in the coffeeshop drop a few degrees.

“I’m surprised you’re here, Vriska,” John said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. Vriska seemed to lean into the gesture more than she usually did. Rose’s face remained still.

“I was in the area, just thought I’d check in,” she said airily. Her eyes weren’t quite meeting John’s and her smile was a little too wide to be genuine.

“Well, it’s lovely of you to join us,” Rose said.

“So how long have you known my boyfriend?” Vriska asked her, placing a hand on John’s arm. John was beginning to get nervous. Vriska and Rose were like a pair of wildcats, tensed and strong and sizing each other up. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to watch what was about to happen.

“About four months. He found something of my brother’s on the bus and put up some flyers saying he’d found it,” Rose said.

“He’s so thoughtful like that,” Vriska almost crooned, stroking John’s arm lightly with a few fingers. “Such a catch.”

“I’m very happy for the two of you,” Rose said, the half-smile on her face warning Vriska not to continue. John tried not to shudder. He’d been on the receiving end of that particular Vriska-sneer enough times to know that Rose must be ridiculously resilient. But she was holding her own pretty well, and John suspected that trying to intervene would cause more pain for him than staying quiet.

“So what is it that you do, Rose?” Vriska asked in the same false-interested tone that she’d introduced herself with.

“I’m a marriage and family therapist out of Tacoma, I come here on the weekends for my Seattle clients,” Rose said, voice not wavering.

“A marriage therapist,” Vriska repeated slowly. John felt one of her fingernails dig into his wrist, but her face remained unchanged. “How interesting.”

“It is highly rewarding,” Rose commented. “Well, I have clients to attend to, and I’m sure the two of you have plans. It was very nice to meet you, Vriska.”

Rose stood and slung her bag over her shoulder before clutching her coffee and strolling out the door. As soon as it swung shut, Vriska turned to John.

“A _marriage therapist_? Really, John? If you’re having problems with our relationship, you should have just told me,” she hissed.

“I met her before I knew you,” John said, aware that he sounded defensive. “It’s not like that’s the only reason I talk to her, we’re _friends_.”

“Yeah, and I’ve got a sneaking feeling that she wants to be more,” Vriska said angrily. “I see how she looks at you, all caring and stuff. Hell, you probably tell her about every single fight we have. That’s _not_ comforting. I would have thought you’d at least tell me you were spilling all of our secrets to a psychologist, especially one who acts interested in you,” Vriska scoffed.

“Jesus, Vriska, we’re _friends,_ of course she cares about me! And my conversations with Rose aren’t always about relationships! Not everything is about _you_ ,” John said, slamming his hand on the table in frustration. He regretted his words as soon as he said them.

“Well I’m sorry I mean so little to you,” Vriska said coldly. “All I wanted to do was surprise you here and meet your friend. You’ve been asking me to come join you for weeks, why are you so upset?”

“Can we please not do this here, Vriska?” John pleaded quietly, painfully aware that some of the fellow patrons were shooting them curious glances.

“What’s wrong with here, John?” Vriska challenged, crossing her arms.

“Don’t make a scene,” John sighed.

“Too late,” Vriska smirked, not bothering to lower her voice. “This is me making a scene. What, are you ashamed of me or something?”

“What? No!” John said exasperatedly. “Vriska, you’re being irrational, stop this, please.”

“Fine, but only because I _care_ about you. Might want to give it a try sometime.”

“Vriska…” John trailed off. She glared at him for a few moments before standing up.

“Come on. Let’s go home. You’ve still got some inventory to do,” she said, jerking her head towards the door. John stood dumbly and followed her out of the coffeeshop.

~

It had been a week since the Starbucks incident, and John was thanking his lucky stars that Vriska hadn’t put up too much of a fight when he’d left to meet up with Rose. She’d scoffed slightly when he kissed her goodbye, and he only felt a little bit guilty as he took a seat at the usual table across from Rose.

“I’m so sorry about Vriska,” John sighed after a few moments of silence.

“You don’t have to apologize for her, it’s only natural that she’d want to cement her place in your life,” Rose said, running her thumb along the rim of her coffee thoughtfully. “She’s a pretty dynamic person, I can see why you like her.”

“Yeah, she’s great…” John said, trying to smile but finding it difficult.

“On a happier note,” Rose said, her eyes brightening. “I have some news. Remember my brother?”

John nodded. It had been four months since his impulsive trip to Texas, and he hadn’t thought much about Dave Strider since meeting Vriska.

“Well, his and Terezi’s wedding is in a few weeks, and...” Rose took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one.”

John was surprised. He thought about what Vriska had said: _She probably wants to be something more_. Rose was unusually interested in his and Vriska’s relationship, and she had been weirdly cagey when he’d asked if she was interested in anyone… but Rose was his friend, and he certainly didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

“I… well, I’m flattered…” John said dubiously. Shit, this was awkward.

“But?” Rose prompted.

“I mean… I’m not interested in you like that,” John confessed, feeling himself blush. To his surprise, Rose burst out laughing.

“Oh, John, no, honey, no,” she grinned. “You’re not really my type. A little too… well, male.”

John wasn’t quite sure what that had to do with anyth— _oh_. He felt like an ass.

“Jesus, sorry for assuming,” he said, laughing a little uncomfortably. “You’re still my best friend, regardless of whoever you’re attracted to.”

“I know,” Rose smiled in amusement. “I’m not worried about you judging me. I am, however, a bridesmaid in my brother’s wedding and in need of a date.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, totally!” John said. “So when is this wedding?”

“September 28. It’s in Houston, so we’re going to fly out on the 26th, me being a bridesmaid and all that,” Rose said. John jotted it down on a napkin as a reminder to take off work.

“So why me? No eligible ladies in the area?” he teased. Rose blushed a little.

“Well, there’s one, but I only met her a few weeks ago, and I feel like asking her to be my date to a wedding would be a little too… forward, I guess?” Rose admitted, suddenly seeming a little shy.

“Tell me about her,” John said eagerly. He spent so much time talking to Rose about Vriska that it was his turn to listen.

“Her name is Kanaya,” Rose said, grinning like an adolescent. “She’s studying fashion in Los Angeles, but she comes up to Washington pretty frequently. I met her in a bar, she bought me a drink, it sorta snowballed from there.”

John grinned. He couldn’t imagine Rose in a bar, being chatted up by some high-style lady over loud music. “She sounds really great,” John said, and Rose beamed. They chatted a while about Rose’s love interest before Rose checked her watched and stood to leave.

“Are you sure Vriska will be okay with this?” Rose asked, a hint of concern in her voice. They’d been carefully avoiding Vriska as a topic of conversation all morning, but John knew it’d have to come up sometime.

“It’s a wedding date, not a _date_ -date,” John said, unsure about whether it was Rose he was trying to convince, or himself. “She’ll be fine, and if she’s not, she’ll get over it.”

“Just be respectful when you tell her,” Rose said, placing her hand gently on John’s shoulder before leaving. John watched her go.

Shit, how was he going to tell Vriska?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm anticipating people being unhappy with my characterization of Vriska from here on out, so I apologize in advance if you disagree with how I'm writing her. :)


	8. Choices

“No.”

“Vriska, please, just listen to me.”

“John, I said _no_ ,” Vriska said sharply, tossing her long black hair out of her face.

The dishes sat undone in the sink; John had decided to make dinner, hoping to mollify Vriska enough to tell her about Dave’s wedding. He knew she’d be upset, but somehow he hadn’t been expecting her to flat-out refuse.

“Why are you so upset about this?” John intoned angrily, bracing his arms on the kitchen counter. Vriska stood in the living room, facing him with her arms crossed. Even with a countertop and a table between them, John could feel the heat of Vriska’s glare.

“Because, John, isn’t it a _little bit weird_ to go to the wedding of a guy you’ve never met, as the date of a woman who totally wants in your pants?” Vriska asked, scowling.

“Rose is gay, and besides, she’s seeing someone,” John said loudly. “Of course she doesn’t want in my pants.”

“And I think it’s funny that she’d tell you this only after meeting me,” Vriska countered. “She’s protecting her pride.”

“She’s not protecting anything, and I don’t see why you’re so eager to assert your dominance or whatever,” John retorted. “Yes, you’re my girlfriend, she knows that, she doesn’t care.”

“Then why doesn’t she ask the woman she’s seeing to go as her date?” Vriska demanded.

“Because it’s a casual thing, I don’t know, okay?” John snapped. “She’s my friend, Vriska, and I’m sorry, but I wish you would just accept the fact that I’m allowed to spend time with women that aren’t you.” John wished he hadn’t said that, but the words were out.

“Jesus, John, _fine_ ,” Vriska said coldly. “Go to fucking Texas with Rose. Have a _great_ time. Take lots of pictures. I suppose I’ll just have to suck it up.” Vriska wasn’t a crier, but there were tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. John sighed and walked over to Vriska before enveloping her in a hug. He kissed the top of her head lightly.

“Vriska,” he said quietly into her hair. She didn’t respond. “I know you don’t like Rose. And I’m sorry. But goddamnit, Vriska, _please_ just trust me. Okay? I’m not going to leave you for Rose. She isn’t a threat. I just wish you’d understand this.”

Vriska made a disapproving noise, but seemed too tired to fight it. She let John hold her for a few minutes before pulling back.

“I’m not going to stop you from going,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. John felt strangely vulnerable under her piercing gaze. “I wish you wouldn’t, and I’m not really okay with it, but I’m not going to stop you.”

“Thank you,” John breathed, pulling her to him again. As he stood there in his living room, arms wrapped around his visibly defeated girlfriend, John wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake.

~

They didn’t discuss Texas again. John didn’t mention Rose’s name, and Vriska said nothing when Rose called to confirm travel plans. It wasn’t until the night before his flight, when John was loading clothes into a suitcase, that he heard a small voice in the doorway.

“Please don’t do this.”

It was Vriska. She sounded tired, nothing like the spirited cackling girl John had met in Prankster’s Gambit so long ago. Her hair tumbled down her back, and she leaned against the doorframe.

“Vriska…” John sighed, threading his fingers in his hair like he always did when he was nervous. He had expected her to put up one last fight, but even if she won him over, John knew that it was too late for him to back out of the wedding.

“Don’t… don’t say anything, okay?” She asked, coming into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed they shared. She refused to look at him. “I know that I can’t make you stay here. Even if you didn’t have your plane tickets and all that stuff set up, I know you wouldn’t break a promise to a friend. Because you’re a good man, John, you really are.”

“Stop this,” John murmured. Vriska cut him off. “Just shut up, okay? Let me talk. Okay. I know I’m not perfect, I can be bossy and I like getting what I want, and yeah, maybe I’m a little jealous. I’ve never depended on anyone besides myself. I did what I wanted, and I relied on myself to get it done. I spent so much time traveling when I was younger that I never learned to appreciate being anchored to something.

“I walked into your joke shop that day on a whim. I asked you out on a whim. I went home with you on a whim. I never expected anything to come of it. But there’s something about you, John. Something made me want to stay. And I think it’s because you’re such an all-around good guy, and there’s not many people in the world who are like that. I’ve been loads of places, but I’ve never felt home until I met you.”

Vriska was crying softly now, and John’s heart was slowly breaking as he listened to her talk. It was so _honest_ , and it wasn’t Vriska’s normal brand of brutal honesty. Even if he had wanted to say something, he wouldn’t have known what to tell her.

“I recognize that I have been possessive of you lately. But I’ve never had something to be possessive of, and as much as I’ve tried, I can’t stop hating it when you spend time with people that aren’t me. And I feel awful about it, John, I do.”

John said nothing, but he walked over to where Vriska was sitting and sank onto the bed next to her. He placed an experimental arm around her shoulders. She gave a light sob but didn’t pull away.

“I’m going to Aranea’s for a while,” she admitted softly, allowing herself one undignified sniffle. Aranea was her cousin, John remembered. He decided to try to speak.

“How long?” His voice cracked. He would have been embarrassed, but there were more important things on the line here.

“I’m not sure,” Vriska said, meeting John’s eyes for the first time. They were red-rimmed and swollen, but there was a hardness and determination to them. She wasn’t going to change her mind. “I just need to sort some stuff out.”

“Are you… breaking up with me?” John asked, terrified of her answer.

“…I don’t know,” Vriska said after a few moments. “Just go to Texas. I’ll let you know when I’m back in town. And don’t try to fight me on this, because my mind is made up,” she added, voice shaking despite the conviction in her words.

“Vriska, I’m so sorry,” John whispered.

“I know,” she sighed. She leaned to kiss John lightly on the cheek before standing and leaving. John sat in shocked silence for a few moments before following her. He got as far as the bedroom doorway before hearing the front door swing closed.

John wanted to follow her. He wanted to run out the doors and chase her, refuse to let her leave, anything to keep him from this crushing sensation of guilt and anger and _aloneness_.

He didn’t even realize that he was dialing a number into his phone.

“John?” Rose’s voice was so calm that John was momentarily angry. Why did she sound so damn normal?

“Vriska’s gone,” John said quietly. He heard Rose gasp.

“John…” she said, and in that one word, he could hear concern and kindness and it all just sort of made him want to cry.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he admitted, his own voice sounding foreign to him.

“I’m about a forty minute drive away,” Rose said firmly. “Hang on, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“You don’t have to—” John began, but Rose interrupted.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to. You hang on. Stay in the house, don’t do anything irrational, I’m on my way.” He could hear Rose shuffling things around in the background and sincerely hoped he wasn’t pulling her away from anything important.

“Thank you,” he managed before the line went dead.

Rose had estimated forty minutes, but half an hour later, John heard three sharp raps at his door. He’d just poured himself a fourth glass of whiskey and it took him a few tries to turn the doorknob. He hadn't even gotten the door completely open before Rose swept him into a tight hug. She was a little damp from the light rainfall, but John didn’t really mind. He hadn’t really realized how much he needed someone until now. Tears fell from his eyes and blended in with the dark raindrop spots that already dotted Rose’s coat.

“Shh…” she breathed softly, stroking his back lightly as his shoulders shook. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” she repeated softly, her voice even more soothing than usual. After a few minutes, John was able to pull himself together and lift his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled away, reaching for the glass of alcohol he’d left on the counter. Rose gently pried it from his hands.

“That’s a bad idea right now,” she said, pouring the drink into the sink and placing the bottle back in the cupboard. John’s shoulders slumped, but he made no move to stop her. “Do you feel like telling me what happened?”

“Are you gonna jus’ do your therapist thing?” John asked, slurring ever so slightly.

Rose smiled. “Not if you don’t want me to,” she assured him. He slouched into a chair, propping his chin up on his hands. Rose took a seat next to him and smiled reassuringly. John sighed.

“Vriska ‘pologized for being so clingy, and said that I was th’ first home she had ever known,” John said. “She didn’ let me talk at all, she… she jus’ wanted ta get it all out. She’s staying with her cousin for ‘while, said she needed to… to sort some stuff out…” John felt the tears welling in his eyes again. Rose rubbed his back reassuringly.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“Wha’ do I do, Rose?” John asked, not bothering to wipe the tears that slid down his cheeks. “It wasn’t ‘spose to happen like this…”

“I know,” Rose said comfortingly.

“I jus’ wish it wouldn’ hurt so bad,” John whimpered, rubbing his eyes angrily. Rose sighed and placed a hand on his.

“I’m going to go pour you some water so your head doesn’t hurt in the morning,” she said calmly. She gave John’s hand a squeeze. When she returned with the water, she found him crying messily again.

“I forgot ‘bout tomorrow,” he hiccupped. “I forgot to finish packing, I forgot about the flight, I almost _ruined the wedding_ ,” he moaned. Rose tried not to smile as she slid the water towards him. He took a long gulp.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” she assured him. “I’m going to stay here tonight, okay? I’m worried about you.”

John nodded meekly.

“All of my stuff is in my car. I can drive us to the airport in the morning. For now, I think it would be a good idea for you to get some sleep,” Rose said, her voice firm but gentle. John finished the glass of water and allowed himself to be helped into his bedroom. Rose busied about him like a mother hen, tucking him gently into bed. She folded the remaining clothes on the bed into John’s suitcase and zipped it closed, placing it gently on the floor by the door where it was ready for the morning. As a final touch, she placed some Advil and another full glass of water on John’s bedside table.

“Sleep well,” Rose said quietly as she turned off the light in John’s bedroom. She was pretty sure she heard a muffled “thank you” as she closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose would be the best moirail ever.


	9. The Photographer

When John awoke, his bed was cold and his head was pounding. He rolled over to prod Vriska awake.

His fingertips met with cold air.

John’s eyes snapped open as memories from last night flooded into his brain. He groaned and hugged his pillow tighter. _Why_ had he had to wake up?

The clock read seven forty-five in the morning. Their flight wasn’t until eleven, but Rose had still wanted to get to the airport a few hours early. John pulled himself out of bed and popped back some ibuprofen, trying to ignore the miserable emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

Once he was showered and dressed, John noticed his neatly-packed suitcase next to the door. _Rose is a saint_ , he thought with another pang of guilt. She really hadn’t needed to come all this way to coddle him, and yet John was unbelievably grateful that she had.

He found Rose curled up on the couch in his living room underneath an enormously thick woolen blanket. The way it matched most of her accessories led John to suspect that she had knitted the monstrosity herself. He gently shook her awake.

“Good morning,” she said groggily. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” John admitted with a sigh. Rose sat up and combed through her short blonde hair with her fingers. “It’s like eight, we should probably leave in like half an hour.”

John headed to the kitchen, pulled out a pan, and began frying bacon, a habit that had become second nature to him after living with Vriska. His stomach twinged. Why did he have to think about Vriska? John’s bottom lip trembled. _No. I refuse to cry, not right now._

They ate in silence and loaded all of the bags into Rose’s car. John knew that Rose kept shooting him worried glances out of her peripheral vision, but he was glad that she didn’t say anything, because he was pretty confident that if she asked about Vriska, he would dissolve into sobs.

The airport was a nice distraction, and Rose made casual conversation as they sat outside one of the airport Starbucks kiosks, waiting for their flight to board.

“I’m going to call her,” John said suddenly, interrupting one of Rose’s tangents about some kind of office drama she’d been dealing with. Rose’s face went stony.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.

“No, but I’m going to anyway,” John said, pulling out his phone and pressing Vriska’s number on speed dial.

He put the phone to his ear. _Ring… ring… ring…_ With each ring, John’s stomach drooped a little further. He hadn’t really expected her to answer, and he hated himself for hoping fervently that she would pick up. A bright musical tone sounded and John almost jumped.

“Hi, you’ve reached  Vriska Serket,” came Vriska’s voice. It made John’s heart ache; she sounded plucky and upbeat, so unlike the quiet, resigned half-whisper of last night. “I can’t come to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Oh, and if this is John, please don’t call me again until I call you first.”

The message tone sounded, but John was stunned into silence. He had _not_ expected that, and he was angry and shocked and upset and apologetic –

He wrenched the phone away from his ear and disconnected the call. Rose looked at him questioningly, but John merely shook his head.

_Please don’t call me again until I call you first_. The words replayed in John’s head like a catchy pop song. How could Vriska sound so happy and unperturbed? When had she even reset her answering machine? It hadn’t even been a full day! John was shaking with almost irrational anger. Rose put a hand on his arm to steady him until his breathing slowed a little.

They boarded the plane in complete silence. John scowled out the window the whole time, lost in thought. He knew Rose was worrying about him, but he was too upset to care. Upset at Vriska for leaving, upset at Rose for allowing him to call her, upset at himself for being a colossal idiot and too blind to notice how much pain he’d been putting Vriska in.

By the time John and Rose were leaving the Houston airport, it was almost six.

“We’re staying with Dave and Terezi, by the way,” Rose said, speaking for the first time since that morning and seeming a little wary. John nodded, acknowledging her comment but not responding. “They’re going to pick us up,” Rose continued. Again, John only nodded in response.

They waited in silence for a few minutes before John heard a surprisingly familiar voice: “Rose!”

Both John and Rose turned towards the voice. Walking towards them, hand in the air, was a tall blond man with dark aviators and a plain white t-shirt. His hair swept lazily across his forehead, and his mouth was turned up in an easygoing smirk. Rose beamed as the man approached them.

Rose set her suitcase down and made to hug him, but he grabbed her around the waist and into a swift noogie.

“Dave, you are an adult, stop that,” Rose laughed, squirming away from his embrace.

“Nice to see you too, big sis,” he said playfully, though the joking tone belied a definite fondness. _Smooth voices must run in the Strider-Lalonde family_ , John thought.

“And you must be John,” the man said, straightening up and facing John, palm extended. John shook it. His grip was firm but strangely steadying. “I’m Dave. Great to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” John returned, surprised by how friendly he sounded considering he’d spent the last several hours moping quietly.

“Let me grab your stuff,” Dave said, hoisting John’s and Rose’s suitcases with a swift move. His arms were tanned and defined without being bulky. John became consciously aware of his own lack of upper-body strength.

Dave led them from the airport out in the muggy Houston evening. He deposited their luggage in the trunk of his car.

“Shotgun,” John muttered to Rose, face breaking into a grin. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling happy all of a sudden, but there was something about being with Rose and Dave and being this far away from everything that was making him so unhappy that just made him smile.

“Dammit,” Rose exclaimed good-naturedly, sticking her tongue out at John as he unlatched the front passenger seat.

John suspected that chattiness also ran in the Strider-Lalonde family, because she and Dave did not shut up for the entire drive. It was a combination of how-have-you-beens and playful sibling jabs at each other, but the entire exchange was witty and mellow. John liked listening to Dave talk. His Texas accent was subtle enough not to be comical, but it was definitely there. He and Rose both had the rich soothing voice thing down.

“So John, tell me about yourself,” Dave said, and to John’s surprise, he seemed genuinely curious. “I know you’re a great and trustworthy dude because you saved my ass with those photos, but I gotta know more.”

“There’s not that much to tell,” John said, a little taken aback. He remembered having this problem with Vriska the first time they went out. Goddammit, why did he have to keep thinking about Vriska?

“Don’t bullshit me, man,” Dave said. “Rosie thinks you’re pretty cool, so ya must be.”

“Don’t call me Rosie,” chimed Rose from the backseat.

“Shaddup,” Dave tossed over his shoulder. “So, John, how ‘bout it? Your life story. Great American Novel right here, I bet.”

“I mean, I manage and co-own a joke shop, that’s about it,” John said dubiously.

“No shit, that’s awesome!” Dave exclaimed. “So you sell, like, whoopee cushions and rubber chickens and stuff like that?”

“Among other things,” John grinned. He began to tell Dave about Prankster’s Gambit. Dave, like Rose, was very easy to talk to. He asked all sorts of questions and seemed genuinely interested in what John had to say. Unlike Vriska, who had basically monopolized the conversation on their first date. _Jesus, John, stop thinking about Vriska_ , he scolded himself.

They arrived at the same apartment complex John had visited almost five months previously. He remembered how nervous he’d been to meet Dave as he stood outside the apartment. The thought seemed silly now; Dave was friendly and casual and seemed sincerely pleased with his life. _Must be nice_ , John thought.

Dave ushered John and Rose into his apartment. There were two floors, and a wooden staircase to John’s right led to the upper one. The door itself opened into a nearly-spotless living room, and John could see an open archway on the left that led to the kitchen. John and Rose carried their suitcases upstairs into the guest bedroom, which lay across the landing from what John assumed was Dave and Terezi’s room.

“Only one bed,” John commented to Rose. She smirked.

“We’re grown adults, I think we can handle sharing one bed for a few nights,” Rose countered, setting her suitcase gently on the floor.

“What can I get you guys to drink?” Dave’s voice called up the stairs.

“I’ll have a glass of wine,” Rose responded. John winced as he remembered his drunken state the night before. “Just water,” he called down. They heard Dave bustling about the kitchen. John was about to leave, but Rose caught his arm.

“John, are you okay?” she asked, wearing the same concerned expression as she had been when John had called Vriska.

“I’m fine,” John tried to wave her off, but she squeezed his arm gently. John sighed. “Fine. I called her and she changed her stupid answer machine message. It specifically told me not to call her again.”

Rose blanched. “I see,” she said, recovering from her un-Rose-like reaction. “I just wanted to remind you that I care about you, and if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

“I know,” John sighed again. “Sorry for being all cold and distant all day, I’ve just been…”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Rose said gently. “I’m just concerned and I want to help.”

“I know. Thank you, by the way,” John added. He gave her a quick one-armed hug.

They joined Dave in the living room. John noted that he hadn’t taken off his sunglasses, but somehow it didn’t really seem weird. Rose stroked the stem of her wineglass as she sat down. “My baby brother is getting married in two days,” she said, unable to suppress a cheeky smile. “I am so proud of you, Davey. How does it feel?”

“It feels like you should probably stop calling me Davey or I’m gonna have to use those,” Dave grinned, gesturing to a set of authentic-looking Japanese swords hanging from the walls.

“Dirk and Rox are coming, right?” Rose asked.

“Sure are. You’re gonna love Roxy, John,” Dave added, looking pointedly at John. “She’s awesome like me and she has no sense of personal boundaries like Rose.” He yelped as Rose swatted at him playfully.

John decided that he was enjoying himself quite a bit. The windows of the apartment were all thrown open, and the sweet scent of wildflowers wafted inside, mixing with the smell of some sort of meat that drifted from the kitchen. He found that he was almost able to forget about Vriska as he leaned back into the soft armchair where he sat.

John heard the doorknob twist, and Dave sat up a little straighter. He could have sworn that he saw Dave’s eyebrows knit slightly over his sunglasses, but half a second later he seemed just as happy as he had been.

The door swung open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Dave's a little out of character for now, but he's cute when he's all friendly so I regret nothing.


	10. Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace

“Dave, why didn’t you tell me we were having guests?”

John remembered the voice well. Terezi shut the door behind her, and John heard the soft _thump_ of her polished cane on the carpet as she walked into the room. Dave stood up to intercept her with a quick squeeze of her waist, planting a light kiss to her temple.

“Hello, Terezi,” Rose said, standing also to give her future sister-in-law a hug. John noticed that the warmth in Rose’s voice didn’t quite reach her eyes. Following suit, John stood to greet Terezi as well.

“’Rezi, this is John,” Dave said by way of introduction.

“Hello,” John said. Terezi twitched slightly at the sound of his voice.

“We’ve met,” she informed Dave, a small note of annoyance in her voice. “You’re the one who returned the photos, right? I never forget a voice.”

“Uh, yeah, that was me,” John said a little uncertainly.

“Well, pleased to meet you all the same,” Terezi said, somewhat dismissively. John was beginning to gather the impression that Terezi didn’t like him very much, although he had no idea why, considering they’d hardly ever met.

“You’d better grab the roast, it’s about to become overdone,” Terezi informed Dave, dropping her briefcase unceremoniously beside the couch.

“It’s amazing that she can smell that,” Dave said with a wide smile. John had to admit, it was really cute the way Dave’s features seemed to soften whenever he looked at Terezi. He remembered the love notes that Dave had written on the backs of all of the photographs of her.

“So how is the new job?” Rose asked Terezi.

“Crazy busy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. New boss means new rules, but if I bust my ass enough I might be promoted,” Terezi said.

“’Rezi works at a law firm,” Dave told John proudly. “Kurloz Makara LLP. The main prosecutor is kind of a clown, but he’s a nice enough guy. Hopefully he’ll like Terezi enough to start giving her some bigger cases.”

“You’re cute when you don’t know anything about lawyers,” Terezi laughed, a thin chuckle that might have sounded derisive if it hadn’t been directed at her fiancé. “He’ll give me bigger cases once he decides I’m a threat in court. I gotta make him hate me if I want him to reward me.”

John was impressed. Terezi hadn’t struck him as the lawyer type, but it made a lot of sense the more he thought about it. He helped Rose set the table while Dave extracted the roast from the oven and Terezi poured herself a glass of wine.

The food was delicious, and dinner conversation was limited for a few minutes as they ate. Terezi and Rose began discussing bridesmaid dresses, which left John to talk to Dave. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. Despite the long amounts of time he had spent admiring Dave’s photography and wanting desperately to talk his ear off about the subject, John remembered what he’d said about Terezi’s disapproval. He began to panic when he realized that he had no idea what to say. Luckily, Dave broke the silence.

“Favorite movie, go.”

“Con Air,” John answered without batting an eye. Dave gave a surprised bark of laughter.

“Really? Nic Cage?” He sounded incredulously amused.

“Hey, man, don’t hate on Nic Cage,” John grinned. “The man is a cinematic legend.”

“Yeah, a cinematic legend of sucking ass,” Dave joked.

“What about you?” John asked, grinning.

“I don’t really have a favorite,” Dave admitted. “I wasn’t much a movie kid, I preferred to waste my time in other ways.”

“Like what?” John asked. He really hoped Dave would bring up photography, even though he knew the chances of that were small.

“Well, let’s just say that I can drop the sickest beats you have ever heard in your young adult life,” Dave grinned. “Dirk bought me some secondhand turntables a way long time ago, and as it turned out, I am a natural genius.”

“I’ll bet,” John laughed. “Rose did mention you’re a DJ.”

“Dude, I am _the_ DJ,” Dave smirked. “At a mere seventeen years of age, yours truly was the youngest person to spin at the hottest club in Houston. My tunes are so chill, they will freeze your insides. Gotta put warning labels on all of them.”

“Sounds dangerous,” John joked.

“This actually reminds me, I have an announcement to make,” Dave said brightly, apparently struck with a thought. He put on his best poker face, picked up his spoon, and snatched Rose’s wineglass off the table. Dave clinked the spoon against the glass, interrupting the girls’ chatter about flowers or something.

“Ahem, ahem, yes, if I could have everyone’s attention,” Dave said, somehow managing to sardonically imitate an overzealous old woman through his straight face. Rose rolled her eyes.

“I have some news for all parties who may be interested,” he said. "And since everyone at this table adores me, that means all of you." Dave seemed to interpret their silence as an indication to continue. “I have decided to set up my own photography studio.”

Warmth flooded through John’s body and he felt himself smiling. Rose’s face had brightened as well, and she clapped her hands together a few times.

“That’s great news, Dave!” Rose said proudly. John noticed that Terezi had stayed completely silent, her mouth frozen into a thin line.

“I’m still going to be spinning at the club most nights,” Dave added. “But I’ve already got some clients at the studio.” John realized that Dave was scanning Terezi’s face, probably looking for some sign of approval. He found nothing, and John watched his smile falter a little. He felt uneasy.

“Yes, wonderful news,” Terezi said finally, but it seemed forced to John’s ears. There was a moment of tense silence.

“So, Terezi, you mentioned that we’ve got to stop by the florist’s tomorrow to confirm the bouquets?” Rose said, a little louder than necessary.

“Yes, I had them make up a sample,” Terezi said, jumping at the subject change. John studied Dave’s face. Even behind his sunglasses, he looked visibly disappointed. John knew he had been hoping for a more positive reaction from Terezi, but he didn’t mention anything else about the photography studio, and John knew better than to ask. Though the rest of the night passed without much else of note, John caught Terezi scowling at him a few times. Why did she dislike him so much?

~

The day of the wedding arrived, and John found himself seated several pews away from the front of the ornate church. Light pink lilies lined the aisle and the altar at the front, and the Texas sun made the stained-glass windows of the church throw glittering spots of colored light. John hadn’t worn a suit in a long time, and he was a little uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to complain.

The music started, and all of the guests turned in their seats to watch the entrance of the church. The priest came first, gliding down the aisle in all his official holy attire. John watched Dave enter through a side door, followed by a scrawny, mohawked guy that John assumed to be his best man. Dave shifted his weight nervously, eyes glued on the entrance to the chapel.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen were filing in now. Rose was smiling radiantly, and John watched her pat Dave’s arm reassuringly as she passed him to take her place at the front of the church with Terezi's other bridesmaids. The maid of honor came next; she was a tall woman who could only have been Terezi’s sister by the sharp facial features and almost identical black hair.

There was a hushed silence when Terezi came into view. She walked on the arm of a tall, skinny man with short black hair; despite his young age, he appeared to be wearing bifocals. John remembered Dave saying something about a brother figure, since she’d apparently grown up without parents. Sollux something.

Terezi was absolutely stunning. Her gown was simple and unadorned except for a red ribbon that wrapped into a neat bow around her waist, the exact color of her sunglasses. John shot a glance at Dave, and noticed that his attempts to keep a straight face were failing pretty miserably. Terezi reached the altar and handed her bouquet to her sister to hold. The music stopped, and she turned to face Dave.

The priest began the ceremony. About halfway through, John noticed that Rose was crying silently; she caught his gaze and gave him a watery smile. John studied the couple. Dave gripped Terezi’s hands as if his life depended on it. John thought again about his impassioned notes on the backs of her pictures. It was really a shame that Terezi was blind, because John knew that he definitely wouldn’t be able to forget the expression on Dave’s face as he regarded his bride. As they recited their vows, John couldn’t help but smile.

“...by the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” finished the priest. Dave pulled Terezi towards him, and the entire church erupted into applause, John among them. When they broke apart, Dave was grinning widely. Terezi offered a small wave to the audience. The wedding party exited the chapel, and the crowd began to disperse.

John met Rose outside the church after the mandatory family and bridal-party photographs. Her makeup was a little tear-smeared, but she was still beaming.

“Don’t your cheeks hurt?” John joked, prodding her lightly.

“A little, but it doesn’t matter,” Rose laughed. “I’m just so happy for him. He’s the first of all of us to be married, even though he’s the youngest. Makes the rest of us feel rather old.”

“Hey, you’re what, twenty-eight? There’s still plenty of time,” John assured her.

“Anyway, cocktail hour is starting,” Rose said, pulling her phone out of her purse to check the time.

They arrived at the hotel ballroom and made for the bar. Rose stopped to say hi to a few people, introducing them all to John. He was getting a little shy; Rose and Dave were the only people he knew here.

“Rrrrrose,” called a loud female voice from behind them. Rose barely had time to react before an arm slung itself around her shoulders. The arm belonged to a woman who could easily have been Rose’s twin if there wasn’t such an age difference between them. The woman’s shiny blonde hair flipped up at the ends, and her bangs swept across her forehead before ending in a tight offset curl. She grinned at John.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the woman said, nodding her head at him. “My name is Roxy and I would _love_ to know yours.” By the slight way she elongated her words, John suspected that she was already a little tipsy.

“Rox, stop hitting on my date,” Rose laughed, ducking out from underneath her sister’s arm. “John, meet my incorrigible sister.”

“The incorrigiblest!” Roxy chuckled before taking a sip from the margarita glass in her hand. “So, John, is this like a we’re-just-friends date or an I-didn’t-know-Rose-likes-bangin'-the-ladies date?”

“The first,” John said, somewhere between shocked and amused. “I, uh, I have a girlfriend.”

“ _Do_ you now?” Roxy asked, swaying a little towards him. “So what’re you doing halfway across the country as someone else’s date?”

John’s blood ran cold as the image of broken, crying Vriska swam into view. He downed his drink in one go and motioned for another. Rose shot him a worried glance and smacked Roxy, who didn’t appear to be paying attention anymore. She had spotted one of her friends across the dance floor and abandoned Rose and John to go meet her.

“Sorry about that,” Rose said apologetically, watching John polish off a shot. “That’s just how she is, completely without a filter. She means well, though…”

“’m fine,” John muttered, shaking his head vigorously. “Just took me by surprise is all.”

Later on in the evening, after dinner and a lot of dancing, John found himself at the bar again. Someone flopped into the seat beside him; John recognized him as Dave’s best man. He was soon joined by another guy with wild dark hair and half-lidded eyes.

“Hey there, brother,” said the second guy, noticing John. He extended a hand. “Why you lookin’ all down in the dumps like?”

“Long story,” John grunted. He was a little drunker than he’d meant to get, and Roxy’s comment had been eating at him all night.

“Lady troubles,” the man said wisely, nodding. “We’ve all been there, brother. I’m Gamzee, this here’s Tavros. Tell us your woes.”

“Well, ‘s about my girlfriend,” John said. Gamzee pulled a barstool over and sat down, propping his head up in his hands like a child expecting storytime. Tavros was watching John silently, but his expression wasn't unfriendly.

“She was all weird about me comin’ down here as Rose’s date for the wedding,” John began, feeling the alcohol direct the conversation. He was pretty sure this wouldn’t be happening if he was sober.

“Rose, as in Dave’s sister Rose?” Tavros asked interestedly. It was the first time John had heard him talk. His voice was a little hesitant, but strong.

“Yeah, her, we’re friends, I know she’s gay, I’ve already been asked,” John babbled. Gamzee and Tavros both nodded and motioned for John to continue.

“Anyway, my girlfriend’s name’s Vriska, she’s jus’ awesome and fun and a lil’ bossy and a lil’ crazy jealous, and she walked out on me the night ‘fore I left for here,” John said, realizing how pathetic he sounded and not caring.

Gamzee laid a hand on John’s arm. “ _Women_ ,” he said knowingly. Tavros nodded solemnly.

“Anyway, she said she’ll be back in a coupla weeks, but I dun’ even know if we’re broke up or anything… An’ Dave is so happy with T’rezi that it kinda jus’ makes me sad.”

Gamzee and Tavros shot a look at each other at the last statement, but John was too busy downing his drink to notice.

“An’ the wors’ part is… I’m kinda happy ‘bout it,” John continued. “I mean, Vriska’s the best, but ‘s kinda nice to not be bossed ‘round.”

“Well, men do all manner of weird things for the women they love,” Gamzee said airily. The comment didn't entirely make sense, and John suspected that Gamzee's trains of thoughts were a little helter-skelter anyway, but he was too drunk to care beyond noticing.

“What if… what’f I don’t love ‘er?” John asked, raising his head from his empty glass to look at Tavros and Gamzee. They were getting a little blurry, but John didn’t care.

“Then you don’t love her,” Tavros said. “There was a girl once who I would have done anything for, and I thought I loved her, but then I realized she was just using me.”

“Soun’s awful,” John said, slumping back in his seat. “How do I know if I don’ love someone?”

“That is a good question,” Gamzee said slowly, steadying a now-swaying John with a hand. “At this point I would suggest kickin’ back and waiting for a motherfuckin’ miracle.”

“I think… I think I don’ love my girlfriend,” John announced hollowly.

Tavros sighed. “We’d better get you away from the liquor,” he decided, propping John’s arm around his shoulders and lifting. For such a scrawny guy, Tavros had the strength of a bull. He half-carried John towards the door of the ballroom. He lowered John's half-responsive body into a chair.

“Stay here, I’m going to go find Rose,” Tavros told him. John thought privately that he probably couldn’t have moved if he tried. He was aware that he was going to regret drinking this much in the morning. Everything turned into sort of a blur, and his last conscious realization was that Rose was tucking him into bed for the second time that week, and he _really_ owed her an apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk John is not a good John.


	11. Love Is A Battlefield

“John.”

John’s head was swimming. He was vaguely aware that someone was trying to talk to him, but opening his eyes was a struggle. He tried to respond, but his vocal chords wouldn’t cooperate.

“John?”

John’s head was pounding. He somehow managed to roll over and crack one eye open. All he could see was blonde.

“Are you awake?”

Everything hurt. He closed his eye again for a few seconds. Things were coming back to him in flashes. Dave’s wedding. Roxy’s ill-placed comment. _I think I don’t love my girlfriend_.

Wait, shit, what?

John’s mouth felt dry and cottony. He made an effort to open his eyes again. This time, they stayed open. He felt someone gently nudge his glasses onto his face. Rose swam into view.

“Sorry…” John mewled weakly. Rose sighed.

“You’re awake, good,” she said. “Our flight home is this afternoon. How are you feeling?”

John grumbled as he tried to sit up. Rose helped prop a few pillows behind his back and handed him some water. His head pounded unpleasantly.

“I think we can both agree that you drank much more than you should have,” Rose said, watching him gulp the water.

“Rose, I think I confessed to someone that I don’t love Vriska.”

The shocked look on Rose’s face was gone almost as soon as it had come. She took the empty glass from John’s hand and went into the bathroom to refill it.

“Everything’s a little fuzzy and muddled, but that part is pretty clear,” John went on. “And I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Well is it true?” Rose asked.

“I don’t know,” John sighed unhappily. “I just wish this damn hangover would go away so I could think clearly.”

Rose allowed herself a small smile. “Not to rush you, but we should be leaving pretty soon here.” She left the room, leaving John alone with his thoughts.

Did he love Vriska? John honestly had no idea. There were times when he thought he did, little quiet moments where he would glance at her and smile and be at peace. But other times, when she was upset or jealous or irrational, he wished nothing more than for her to leave him alone. He wished there was an easier way to tell.

He thought about Dave and Terezi. Despite John’s personal feelings about Terezi, he was confident that Dave loved her. There was no way he could have feigned the pure unadulterated joy that had graced his features when he was reciting his vows to her. John thought of the photographs again, with the little notes of adoration. If that wasn’t love, John had no idea what was.

~

It had been two weeks since Dave’s wedding, and Vriska still hadn’t called. John woke up every morning and took the bus to work, just like he always did. He joked around with Karkat and sold joke shop merchandise and filled out tax and inventory forms, just like he always did.

Every evening when he got home from work, he hoped to god that he’d find Vriska typing away on the couch. Every evening, the house would be empty. John had never considered his house to be that big, but the silence and the emptiness dwarfed him.

Most of Vriska’s stuff was still lying around the house. Her clothes hung in John’s closet, her shampoo sat next to his in the shower, and a pile of her travel magazines slumped on the kitchen counter. John had even been tempted to go online and read her advice column, but something stopped him every time. Almost everything in the house reminded him of Vriska, and every second spent inside left him a little more miserable.

John had gone for coffee with Rose a few times. They carefully avoided the topic of Vriska. This was surprisingly easy, as Rose had bitten the bullet and asked Kanaya to be her girlfriend; the latter had agreed. John preferred to listen to Rose gush about her new significant other than to talk about the absence of his own.

Then, suddenly, after nearly three weeks of radio silence, John’s phone rang.

The number was Vriska’s.

John stared at the number warily. He was almost afraid to pick it up. This was the longest he had gone without talking to Vriska since he’d met her, and he wasn’t sure what he would find at the other end. Tentatively, he answered.

“Hello?”

“John?” Vriska breathed. John let out a little sigh of relief. At least she didn’t sound angry.

“Yeah, um, hi,” he stammered into the phone. Dammit, this was so awkward.

“Listen, hey, are you home tonight?” She sounded distracted.

“Yeah,” John confirmed. There was so much he wanted to say that he didn’t have the words for.

“Is it okay if I drop by?” Vriska asked. She almost sounded nervous.

“Sure,” John said. He wished he knew how to say what needed to be said.

“Great, um, I’ll be there at eight, okay?” Vriska said.

“Sounds good,” John confirmed. Vriska hung up.

John just stared at the phone. If he hadn’t recognized Vriska’s voice, he might not have thought that she was the caller. He’d never heard her so hesitant, it wasn’t like her. John felt like he was going to be sick. _Did I do this to her? Is this my fault?_

Work was slower than ever, and John was a bundle of nerves by the time he closed the shop. He clambered onto the bus when it arrived.

“You look like shit, kid,” Karkat offered by way of conversation.

“How do you tell someone you care about that you’re not in love with them?” John blurted. Karkat nearly choked in surprise.

“Wow, Egbert, gettin’ real fucking personal today, aren’t we?” he said as he recovered. “Is that a serious question?”

“I guess,” John sighed. He might as well get Karkat’s opinion on it.

“I guess if you care about them… and if they care about you too… they’ll understand,” Karkat said finally. He looked desperately uncomfortable, but John didn’t care. The words made him feel a little better. He didn’t say anything else until Karkat pulled into his stop.

“Good luck,” Karkat said, making eye contact with John as he left. It was the most sincere thing Karkat had ever said to him, and John nodded back in solidarity. He took a deep breath and made his way home.

Eight o’clock came and went. John looked anxiously at the clock. It wasn’t like Vriska to be late. He began to pace nervously around the living room. Where could she be?

It was eight fifteen, and no one had knocked on the door.

John chewed at his thumbnail. Was she okay? Was something wrong? He debated on whether or not he should call her, but decided against it.

 _Taptaptap_.

John’s heart sank.

He opened the door to find Vriska standing on the doorstep. There were dark bags under her eyes, but other than that she remained unchanged. John wasn’t sure why this surprised him. One half of him had been expecting her to show up a sobbing mess and demanding to be taken back, and the other half had anticipated her to yell at him and kick his ass a little. Vriska did neither.

“Are you gonna let me in?” she asked, smiling weakly. John stepped back and let her in. She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the doorknob like she usually did. Something caught in John’s throat.

“How was the wedding?” Vriska asked, apparently determined to keep any form of conversation going. John almost laughed; that was so like her.

“It was really nice,” John said, more casually than he felt. “How was Aranea’s?”

“It was fine,” she shrugged. There was a brief pause. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but Vriska cut him off before he could start.

“Listen, John, I’m really sorry.”

John took a deep breath. He knew this conversation was going to have to happen, and he’d been planning for it for three weeks, but he still wasn’t sure he was completely prepared.

“Don’t be,” he said. “I should have paid more attention to your feelings.”

“But you didn’t,” Vriska said shortly. John met her gaze. Her eyes pierced into him, and he was nearly overwhelmed with anger and sorrow and guilt and all manner of feelings.

“I can’t make you do anything just because I will it,” she continued. “I dropped my hints, I even told you straight how I felt about you going to the wedding, and you still...” The words trailed off and Vriska's lip began to quiver. She took a few deep breaths to regain her poise.

John opened his mouth to contradict her, but came to the sickening realization that she was right.

“And that’s… that’s okay,” Vriska continued, faltering only a little. Her eyes were welling with tears again. “That was your choice. And now, I’ve made mine.”

John felt his lip wobbling. So it was over, just like this. She hadn’t said it explicitly, but she didn’t need to. “Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” he asked weakly.

“No,” Vriska said, blinking back tears. “I have to do this. I know that I’m not going to be happy in this relationship, so I can’t do it anymore.”

John bit his lip hard. He honestly wasn’t surprised at Vriska’s choice. He was, however, surprised that he wasn’t nearly as upset as he’d expected to be.

“Just one thing?” Vriska asked, almost hesitantly. “…Do you love me, John?”

And just like that, John Egbert’s heart broke. He opened his mouth to say something, _willing_ the words to come out. He’d said them before, he’d said them a million times, but nothing was coming now. The silence was too long. Vriska looked down for a moment before approaching him and kissing him softly on the cheek.

“Vriska, I…” John started.

“Don’t. Please, just don’t,” Vriska implored, eyes flashing up at him. “I’ll be back in the morning for my stuff. Good night.”

Vriska lifted her jacket from the door handle and pulled it on. John heard a faint sob as she left.

John didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. It might have been minutes; it might have been hours. He wasn’t even aware that he’d called Rose until he heard her panicked voice issuing from the phone that was lying limply in his hands.

“John? John? Are you okay? What’s happened? Please say something.”

“She left,” John said numbly into the phone.

Rose let out a long sigh.

~

John didn’t have work that morning, but he caught the bus into the city anyway. He didn’t really want to be in the house, and Karkat didn’t ask questions when he took in John’s swollen eyes and haphazard appearance. He patted John solemnly on the shoulder when they arrived in Seattle. John didn’t say anything, but he knew that Karkat would understand that he appreciated the gesture.

John found himself strolling along the waterfront of the Sound. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep out the October chill. Cold rain pelted down around him, but John merely clutched his jacket closer to himself and walked on.

“Hey, Mr. Photo Album Man!”

John heard a shout behind him and turned around. Standing out on one of the docks was a short figure waving frantically at him. He squinted. It was Nepeta, the owner of the pet shop that he’d talked to a few times when he was looking for the photo album’s owner. That day seemed like ages in the past, even though it had only been several months.

John waved back. Nepeta motioned furiously for him to join her. Eh, what the hell.

John walked out on the dock to join her against the far rail, looking out over the steely water. “What are you doing outside in this weather?” he asked.

“I was getting a little sick of staying inside,” Nepeta said. “It’s rainy, but I don’t mind. I like the fresh air. How have you been?”

“Better,” John said honestly. Nepeta scrutinized him for a few moments.

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” she said finally, patting him on the arm. John wasn't quite sure how she knew, but he was much too tired to ask. “Wanna come inside and pet some of the dogs? It helps sometimes.”

Inside the confines of the warm shop and covered in friendly, frolicking puppies that were up for adoption, John had to admit he felt a little bit better. Nepeta watched fondly as John cuddled a small terrier.

“Did you ever end up finding the owner of that photo album?” Nepeta asked as if suddenly remembering something.

“What? Oh, yeah, I did,” John said, scratching one of the puppies behind the ears.

“Who were they?” Nepeta prompted. She looked like a little girl desperate for a bedtime story.

“A couple of tourists visiting family here in Washington. I actually went to their wedding a few weeks ago.”

Nepeta squealed. “That’s sooooo cute!” she exclaimed. “That’s like straight out of a storybook!”

“It was great. They looked really happy,” he said a little wistfully.

A few hours later, John bade Nepeta farewell. The puppies had been a great distraction, and John guessed that it was probably safe to go home.

~

John walked into his house, half-expecting to find Vriska, but the lights were turned off and there was no sound. John flipped on the kitchen light.

The house seemed weirdly empty. The stacks of magazines were gone, as were a few small items of furniture. John meandered into his bedroom. There was a gaping hole in his closet where Vriska’s clothes had hung, and a few drawers of his dresser hung open and emptied. His throat caught when he realized that Vriska had made his bed for him.

John traipsed back into the kitchen and noticed something sitting on the counter. He realized with a sickening lurch that it was Vriska’s spare key. Beneath the key, Vriska had left a note in spidery handwriting: _I’m sorry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~End of Part One.~
> 
> [This will be the last update for a while; I am working furiously on the next segment of this story and updates will recommence once I'm significantly far into Part Two. Thank you guys for your patience, you're all the best! Also, if for some silly reason you wanted to follow me on Tumblr, my url is [twinklyherbert](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com)! :) <3]


	12. One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my best to finish writing this story before school starts in a few weeks and I won't have as much time then. I'm not sure I'll get it done, but I've made some headway! Also, starting in a few chapters, I'm going to be adding some more tags to this story. I don't want to spoil anything, but keep an eye out for potential triggers in the tags. I want all of my readers to stay safe and healthy!
> 
> So without further ado, here begins Part Two!

John Egbert stepped into the Starbucks, head ducked against the snowy wind. The warm espresso-scented air greeted him pleasantly, and he rubbed his gloved hands together to try and get some feeling in his fingers. He had never been more excited for hot chocolate.

Rose was already seated at their usual table, blowing softly on her coffee to cool it down. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed pink from the freezing January air, and she looked unusually troubled as she gazed out of the window at the snowy Seattle street.

“What’s wrong?” John asked as he sat down, clutching his drink and enjoying the tendrils of heat that were warming his hands.

“You remember my brother Dave, right?” Rose asked.

Oh yes, John had almost forgotten about Rose’s brother who lived in Houston. His wedding had been a little over a year ago, if John was remembering correctly. Back when John had still been with Vriska. Wow, it had been a while since he’d thought about Vriska too.

“Yeah! How is he doing?” John asked, sitting back slightly. Rose looked down at her coffee for a few moments before responding.

“I guess he’s coming to visit,” she said, a little distractedly. John was surprised at how unhappy she sounded.

“Isn’t that a good thing? I thought you and your brother were pretty close,” he said, voicing his confusion.

“Well, the circumstances leave a little to be desired,” Rose answered. “He called me last night and told me to pick him up at the airport today at noon.”

“Huh,” John said. “That’s kind of weird. Do you know why?”

“No, he didn’t tell me, that’s the thing,” Rose said. “And he called me ‘Rose’ instead of ‘sis.’ Usually he'd give me some kind of advanced warning, it's not like him to show up randomly. I’m rather worried about him.”

“That does seem strange,” John agreed. “Is he staying with you? How does Kanaya feel about it?”

“Kanaya’s in New York for a few months,” Rose said steadily. John admired how well Rose was handling her relationship. Kanaya was out of town more frequently than not, having risen quickly in the fashion industry. John knew Rose wished she’d stay put, but Rose was unfailingly supportive and John was pretty proud of her for that.

“And anyway, if you wanted to come with me to go pick him up, I’ll bet he’d be glad to see you,” Rose continued, sipping her coffee thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, I only really met him for a few days,” John said doubtfully. He and Dave had gotten along pretty well, he remembered, but they hadn’t talked much after the wedding. Dave had called him to thank him for coming, and John had wished him and Terezi good luck, and that had been it.  

“You’ll be fine,” Rose grinned. “Your advice was what convinced him to start his photography studio, I’m sure he’ll have nothing but good words to say to you.”

John was a little taken aback. He hadn’t expected to have that much of an effect on Dave. He’d definitely been shocked to find out that Dave wasn’t a professional photographer, but he hadn’t thought that his praise for those pictures had been very substantial. John found it easy to remember the photographs, even though he hadn’t thought about them for months.

Thinking about the photo album reminded him painfully of Vriska. Maybe if he hadn’t found the damn thing, he wouldn’t have met Dave and gone to his wedding and screwed things up royally with his first serious girlfriend. John shook his head, ordering himself to stop thinking things like that. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to move on from Vriska, but he had finally stabilized, and he wanted to keep it that way.

John found himself in Rose’s car, headed for the Seattle-Tacoma airport. Dave had said noon, and they were making pretty good time as Rose zoomed down the highway. They arrived at the airport and made their way to the baggage carousel to wait for Dave.

John barely recognized the man that showed up. He was still tall and blond and sunglasses-clad, but there was no bounce in his step like there had been when he’d picked them up in Texas a year ago. His face was gaunter and paler, his hair was unkempt, and his shoulders sagged. Light worry lines creased his forehead and the corners of his mouth. He seemed _old_ , much older than his twenty-six years.

“Dave!” Rose exclaimed in greeting, and John could hear the note of concern in her voice. Dave dropped his bags and didn’t say anything, letting Rose stand on her tiptoes and hug him tightly. John watched the tension melt from his shoulders as he hugged her back. Dave looked positively ragged; even John was getting worried for him.

Rose pulled back from the embrace and hoisted his duffel bag over her shoulder.

“Hey, great to see you,” John said, offering Dave his hand. Dave shook it firmly, responding with nothing but “sup.” There was no sign of the smiling, loquacious man that John had met in Texas last year.

The car ride to Rose’s house in Tacoma was almost painfully quiet. John had let Dave take shotgun, and Dave stared out the window the entire time. He was clearly troubled, but John found himself at a loss for words. He suspected that Dave was feeling rather grateful for the privacy of his shades.

Rose pulled into the driveway of a modest two-story house. Despite being friends with Rose for so long, John had never been here before, having never really had an occasion to drive out to Tacoma and stop by. John carried Dave’s bag and followed the two siblings into the house. It was spacious and clean, furnished with chic modern sofas and tables. John suspected that Kanaya’s eye for fashion extended to interior design as well.

Dave peeled off his maroon coat and flopped onto a black leather loveseat, rubbing his temples tiredly. John shot Rose a worried glance, to which she responded with a quick shrug. She relieved John of Dave’s bag, whispering to him that there was beer in the fridge. John got the hint. He opened Rose’s steel refrigerator and pulled out two bottles. He popped off the caps with a fancy turquoise bottle opener sitting on the counter.

“Beer?” He asked Dave as he returned to the living room. Dave had flipped on the television and was staring at it casually, but John doubted he was paying much attention.

“Oh, what? Sure,” Dave said after a moment. John handed him a bottle before taking a drink from his own. He took his own seat in a black suede recliner next to Dave.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to Rose bustling around upstairs as she prepared the guest room for Dave’s stay. John threw a few concerned looks in Dave’s direction, but his expression was inscrutable behind his sunglasses. John wondered why he never took them off. He’d even kept them on for his own wedding.

John noticed that Rose had returned, observing their non-conversation. Her mouth was drawn into a worried frown. Dave didn’t even seem to notice her. She padded lightly over to John.

“I’m going to run out to the store and pick up some stuff for dinner. Can you hold down the fort?” She asked under her breath. John nodded solemnly. He suspected that Rose was more upset about Dave’s current state than she was letting on, but she was trying to stay calm. She grabbed her back and closed the door behind her.

There were a few more minutes of noticeable silence before Dave coughed. “So how’ve you been, John?” he asked. His voice sounded strained, and John suspected that he was trying to force some casual conversation.

“Can’t really complain,” John responded. “I’ve been working at the shop, paying the bills, all of that fun adult stuff.”

Dave gave a short laugh, but it sounded bitter and hollow. “Sounds like a blast,” he said after a few moments.

“And… how have you been?” John asked warily. He didn’t really want to push the issue, but Dave’s moodiness was more than a little off-putting. He didn’t even know Dave very well, but there was such a significant difference between the happy newlywed of a year ago and the brooding man lounging with one leg over the armrest of Rose’s loveseat.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Dave said after a few moments before taking a long swig from his drink. John sighed.

“Hey, I’m not going to push you for details,” John assured him. “Rose is worried sick, and I am too, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it,” Dave said. He pushed his sunglasses up to his forehead and rubbed his eyes vigorously. John suspected he was trying to hold back tears and averted his eyes respectfully. Dave flicked his glasses down over his eyes again and looked back at the television.

“So how about that girl you were seeing?” Dave asked, looking for a subject change. “Vriska, right?”

“Yeah,” John said moodily, dropping his gaze. “We, uh, actually broke up a few weeks after your wedding.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” Dave apologized hurriedly. “Didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories or whatever. That’s gotta have been rough.”

“Yeah, it sucked for a while. Still sucks sometimes,” John confessed. It was weird to be talking about Vriska; he had gotten out of the habit of mentioning her, mostly because he’d wanted to stop Rose from psychoanalyzing him every time something even slightly Vriska-related came up. It was hard for John to admit that he still thought about her sometimes.

“Women,” Dave said gruffly, taking a long drink. John made a noncommittal noise and followed suit. He wondered why Dave was expressing his exasperation with the female sex; he and Terezi had seemed over the moon last time John had seen them. For some reason, John’s heart sunk a little bit to think about happy, desperately-in-love Dave Strider.

John wondered if Terezi knew that Dave was in Washington.

They fell into a comfortable silence again, half-watching the news and sipping sullenly at their drinks. The afternoon slipped by without either of them realizing it; John hadn’t even realized that Rose had come back until he got up to get himself and Dave some more beers and almost bowled her over when he walked into the kitchen.

“How is he?” Rose asked in a low voice as she stirred a pot of spaghetti on the stove.

“Not very talkative. He looks really tired,” John said back, biting his lip a little. He suspected that even if Dave could hear them talking about him, he was too exhausted to protest.

“I’m going to talk to him after dinner,” Rose decided. “Knowing him he’s not going to want to discuss it, but I think it would be better for him to get it off his chest.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” John said honestly. “He probably just wants to be left alone.”

“Probably, but he also needs help. He wouldn’t come out all this way if he didn’t,” Rose reasoned. John knew that she had a point, even though he privately disagreed. John didn’t even have to know Dave that well to know that he was hurting. He loved Rose, and he knew that she was only trying to do what she thought was best for her brother, but John also knew that Rose was dogged in her attempts to engage people in conversations.

John retrieved another beer from the fridge and returned to the living room. He handed it to Dave, who took it with a mumble of appreciation. John wondered, not for the first time that afternoon, what Dave was thinking.


	13. Sudden Developments

“Dave? I’d like to talk to you,” Rose said a little hesitantly. Dinner had passed quietly; John noticed that Dave hadn’t eaten much, preferring to push his spaghetti and meatballs around his plate like a little kid.

Dave threw her a look that seemed a mixture of disapproval and resignation. “I ‘spose I shouldn’t be too surprised. I’m not gettin’ out of this one easy, am I?”

“I’m afraid not,” Rose confirmed apologetically. She stood up and jerked her head towards the doorway into the living room. Dave sighed laboriously and followed her.

John elected to hang back; he wasn’t sure that Dave would want him to listen to the story, as curious as he was. He began clearing empty dishes from the table, stacking them in Rose’s enormous steel kitchen sink. Hell, he might as well do some dishes, it was the least he could do.

John scrubbed at a plate for a few moments before he heard Rose’s voice from the next room. He felt kind of bad for eavesdropping, but he was terribly curious.

“So what brings you all the way to Washington, dear brother?” Rose asked.

“Can’t a guy just come visit his sister? Jesus, Rose, way to be unsociable,” Dave responded, avoiding the question none too gracefully. John could hear Rose’s sigh of exasperation over the sound of the running water.

“David.”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Dave sighed. “I’ve just been cooped up in Texas and I wanted to get away for a while. Terezi has been driving me fuckin’ bananas. And don’t you dare start spewin’ your marriage-therapy skullfuckery at me, either.”

“Well, we can make this conversation skullfuckery-free, then,” Rose promised. John grinned in spite of the situation; the Strider-Lalondes were probably the only family that could drop the word _skullfuckery_ into a completely serious conversation.

“I dunno, Rose, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you about my wife, okay?” Dave mumbled, sounding a little annoyed.

“That’s fine, but it’s a conversation that needs to be had with _someone_ ,” Rose said gently. “What about Tavros?”

“Oh, yeah, Jesus. Wonder how he’s doin’,” Dave wondered aloud, more to himself than anything.

“What do you mean, _you wonder how he’s doing?_ ” Rose demanded. John bristled; the alarm in her voice was more than a little bit disconcerting.

“Shit, Rose, I haven’t talked to him in, like, months,” Dave retorted.

“…We’re talking about the same Tavros, right? Tavros Nitram, your best friend?” Rose was fighting to keep the anger out of her tone, but John could hear her shaking a little.

“Yeah,” Dave responded nonchalantly. “Why you so angry, sis?”

“Pray tell, Dave, why you haven’t talked to him in months? Or me, for that matter?” Rose asked through clenched teeth. John wasn’t quite sure why Rose was so upset. He also became aware that he had stopped washing the dishes and was standing in front of Rose’s sink, holding a sudsy bowl and listening in like an idiot.

“Why would I? It’s not like he’s my wife or anything, I don’t have to talk to him every goddamn hour of every goddamn day,” Dave snapped. There was a bit of silence.

“And _do_ you have to talk to your wife every goddamn hour of every goddamn day?” Rose asked quietly.

John couldn’t hear anything, and he sincerely wished that he could be in the room, because he could sense Dave floundering and figured that he might need some sort of moral support. But John’s feet stayed planted firmly in front of the sink, stomach twisting into tighter knots with every second of silence.

“Dave?” Rose prompted hesitantly.

“What’s it fuckin’ matter if I do?” Dave muttered finally. Rose sighed audibly.

“Dave, when was the last time you spent time with anyone that wasn’t Terezi?” Rose said softly.

“…’bout six months, maybe,” Dave mumbled. John’s heart sank. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be holed up in the same place for six months with only one person for company. No wonder Dave looked so visibly deflated.

“Well what about work? How’s the photography studio going?” Rose asked.

“Sold it,” Dave grunted. “’Rezi hated it from the get-go but she let me keep it open long enough to break even. She told me it wasn’t gonna be profitable in the long run. She’s probably right, I ain’t _that_ good at photography, it was just a stupid hobby.”

John felt white-hot anger surge through his body. _Stupid hobby_? John had never been the same since seeing Dave’s photographs, those were not the kinds of pictures that one took when one had a _stupid hobby_. Unless, of course, one was a genius. Which Dave certainly was. John’s blood was boiling. Who the _hell_ was Terezi to tell Dave that his photography studio wouldn’t be profitable? She couldn’t even see the photos!

…And John supposed that was probably the whole point.

“Did you go back to working at the club, then?” Rose asked.

“For a while, yeah, but ‘Rezi didn’t like it when I was out too late. She’d sniff my clothes for hints of perfume and other crazy shit like that,” Dave answered, laughing darkly. “Of course she’d find perfume, her sense of smell is un-fucking-real and I worked at a goddamn nightclub.”

“Worked, past tense?” Rose prodded.

“Yeah. She made me stop going. I do online music commissions now. Video game soundtracks, mostly. Pays well enough, and unlike her eyes, Terezi’s ears actually work.” It was a feeble attempt at a joke, and Rose didn’t laugh.

“I miss my camera,” Dave admitted in a small voice. John let out a long sigh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard someone sound so utterly despairing. John’s heart sunk into his stomach as he remembered how broadly Dave had smiled when he had announced that he was opening a photography studio. _Maybe if Terezi had been able to see that smile, this wouldn’t be happening_ , John thought bitterly. He knew it wasn’t Terezi’s fault she was blind, but he couldn’t stem the irrational, seething anger that was now pounding in his head. John became aware of hot tears welling up in his eyes and vaguely wondered why he was getting so emotional.

John hadn’t heard Dave come into the kitchen, and he jumped slightly when Dave opened the refrigerator and withdrew a jug of apple juice. John noticed that his face was red and his lip was trembling ever so slightly, and he respectfully kept his gaze forward as he handed Dave a clean glass from the cupboard above his head. Dave murmured a brief thanks and filled the glass to the brim with juice. John elected to exit the kitchen so Dave could have some privacy.

Later, as John was preparing to leave, Rose quickly grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

“He isn’t okay,” she muttered, shifting her eyes meaningfully to Dave, who had curled up on the couch and was sleeping fitfully.

“I know,” John replied, keeping his voice low.

“I hate to ask this, but would you mind coming down a few times this week if you have time? I don’t want to leave him alone,” Rose implored. John briefly considered the gravity of the situation before nodding.

“Thank you,” she smiled, giving him a warm hug.

John spent the cab ride back to Seattle thinking about Dave. John was trying his hardest not to blame Terezi for the situation; Dave trusted her judgment and John was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. But his stomach started churning as he thought about the worry lines etched into Dave’s forehead and the hollowness of his previously rich voice. He was a shadow of the man John and met, and it made John inexplicably upset.

~

“Unbelievable,” John grinned, leaning back and stretching his legs.

“What?” Dave challenged.

“You say _my_ taste in movies is terrible,” John laughed, gesturing at the rolling credits on the television in front of them.

“That’s because it is,” Dave pointed out. “Which is undoubtedly why you don’t appreciate Starsky and Hutch for the cinematic masterpiece that it is.”

“Yeah, whatever,” John snorted, chucking one of Rose’s embroidered pillows at him. Dave protested loudly as he swatted it away.

It was Tuesday night, and John was sitting on the floor of Rose’s living room, leaning back against the same couch that Dave was currently flopped onto. An open pizza box, two bowls of popcorn kernels, and several empty soda cans were strewn across the carpet. John had been there since noon to keep Dave company while Rose was at work, and it had been a great lazy day of doing nothing. Dave had beaten him pretty handily at a few rounds of Call of Duty, but John had returned the favor by smoking him in Mario Kart. They’d ordered pizza and watched Dave’s proclaimed favorite movie.

It had taken a few hours, but John felt like Dave was coming out of his shell a bit. He wasn’t stony or avoidant like he had been a few days ago; Dave laughed and made sarcastic comments and bad jokes. He still wasn’t as friendly and upbeat as John remembered him being at the wedding, but John definitely preferred sardonic Dave to surly Dave.

John rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, but he had been staring at a screen for most of the day. “What time is it?” he asked.

“I dunno, seven thirty, maybe?” Dave guessed. “Rose should probably be home soonish.”

“Yeah, probably,” John said, shrugging noncommittally. Dave would be fine on his own until Rose returned, and she would take good care of him once she got back. So why was John balking at the idea of leaving?

There were a few moments of silence; Dave examined his fingernails and John hoisted himself up to go turn the television off. They gathered all of the food debris from the floor and carried it into the kitchen, leaving it unceremoniously on the counter for Rose to deal with later.

“I should probably get home, it’s getting late,” John said after a few seconds. Dave nodded in understanding, but he shoulders drooped ever so slightly. John offered him a weak smile before heading towards the door.

As he was turning the knob, he heard Dave call, “Wait.”

Dave was standing a few feet away, scratching the back of his neck nervously. His expression was unfathomable as always behind his aviators, but he seemed a little apprehensive.

“…Thanks,” Dave said finally. “Today was pretty rad. I kinda been missing hangin’ out with other guys, y’know? Like, Rose is the bomb and everything, but this was like… the H-bomb. Radioactive, ya know. Straight up prepared to destroy some cities.”

John laughed. “Hey, no problem. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promised.

“I’ll let Rose know you’re my favorite babysitter and she’d better be paying you well for your troubles,” Dave grins. “But yeah, tomorrow sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then,” John agreed, walking out with a small smile on his face.

~

“I’m going to miss you,” Rose said fondly, standing on her tiptoes to hug Dave tightly and planting a familial kiss on his cheek. The airport wasn’t too crowded, but Dave was going to miss his flight back to Houston if he didn’t go soon.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lalonde,” Dave said, making a face as he pointedly rubbed her lipstick off his skin. John grinned and offered Dave his hand.

“My absolute pleasure, as always,” Dave said solemnly, giving John’s hand a few firm shakes. His brows furrowed slightly as he realized that there was a small piece of paper in John’s hand. “What is this?”

“I don’t know if you’ve got Pesterchum, but if you do, that’s my chumhandle,” John explained. “You know, in case you ever need to talk and you don’t want Rose to tear your psyche apart.”

Rose socked him lightly in the arm. To John’s surprise, Dave actually _smiled_ as he pocketed the slip of paper. It was the warm, honest-to-god smile that had been missing from Dave’s features all week, and it made John oddly happy. “Thanks, man,” Dave said quietly, patting his shoulder amiably before taking his bags from Rose. He adjusted his sunglasses and gave them both a final wave before turning on his heel and strolling towards airport security.

That smile stayed in John’s mind for the entirety of the following week.


	14. My Online Penpal

John had been finding himself unusally busy lately. Washington in February was frigid and unforgiving as always, and he was spending a rather large amount of time inside. One particularly snowy night, John had curled up on his couch in a soft blue hoodie and an enormous knit blanket that Rose had given him for Christmas. A fire crackled invitingly in the fireplace, and John was typing up a particularly pressing email to one of his merchandise suppliers.

Suddenly, his Pesterchum icon began flashing. Someone was messaging him. John furrowed his eyebrows and clicked the blinking button. John didn’t use Pesterchum very frequently, given that most of his contacts were college friends that were now off doing bigger and better things than general-managing a joke shop in downtown Seattle. He talked to them occasionally, but not often enough for him to be unsurprised that someone was talking to him. The application opened, and John saw that an unfamiliar user was pestering him.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

TG: sup

John frowned. The only person he remembered giving his chumhandle to recently was Dave Strider, but that had been more than a week ago, and with no contact, he’d sort of put it out of his mind. He was pretty positive that this was Dave, but he wasn’t quite positive enough to respond as chummily as he would have otherwise.  
  
EB: hello?  
TG: hello yourself  
EB: dave?  
TG: the one and only  
  
John smiled in relief. He hadn’t been expecting anyone else, but it was nice to have confirmation.  
  
EB: oh good! i was hoping it was you, otherwise that would be weird!  
TG: do you mean to tell me that you didnt recognize me by my characteristically enthusiastic greeting  
TG: honestly egbert i am hurt  
TG: so hurt  
TG: like get me to the hospital pronto  
TG: im fading fast bro  
EB: don’t go into the light!  
TG: too late  
TG: the light is here  
TG: it is so pretty too  
TG: fucking captivating  
EB: don’t do it man!  
EB: there’s still time for you!  
TG: yeah yeah whatever  
TG: if you insist  
TG: jeez so pushy  
EB: come on, you know you love it.  
TG: i know no such thing

John snorted. Talking to Dave online was a lot different than talking to him in person. He seemed to type completely without filter, sending half-formed sentences as he thought them, spewing nonsense almost too quickly for John to respond to him. He was quite unlike the rather reticent Dave that John had watched over when he’d been in Washington.  
  
He was just about to type a response when Dave sent him another message.  
  
TG: hey whats with your chumhandle anyway?  
TG: like what the hell even is an ectobiologist  
TG: besides kind of lame-sounding  
EB: oh har har!  
EB: i dunno, i made this account when i was like 13.  
EB: i really liked science  
EB: and i really liked ghostbusters, and ecto means ghost!  
TG: so clearly, ghost biology was a thing that made sense to you  
TG: how does your brain even work  
TG: honestly  
EB: hey don’t hate!  
EB: it’s not like yours is any better!  
TG: well excuse you  
EB: what kind of self-contained teenage douchebag comes up with turntechGodhead?  
TG: the me kind of self-contained teenage douchebag, you douchebag  
EB: you’re the douchebag.  
TG: i can say with one hundred percent accuracy that it is in fact you who are the douchebag  
TG: the douchiest of bags  
TG: it is none other than you

John grinned. It might have been that Dave was much more comfortable conversing online than he was in person, but John also liked the thought that Dave was becoming more comfortable talking to him.

TG: hey actually  
TG: not that this conversation hasnt been all kinds of awesome  
TG: albeit short  
TG: but i gotta go  
TG: yknow  
TG: do stuff  
EB: awww.  
EB: well it’s good to know that you’re okay!  
TG: cool  
TG: later dude  
EB: later!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John sighed. Dave had logged off pretty quickly, and John suspected that Terezi might have had something to do with it, but he figured that Dave would be okay. He’d ask about Terezi later. Assuming Dave logged on again.

~

John needn’t have worried. He got home from work the next day and turned on his computer only to find a wall of red text waiting for him.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

TG: yo egbert  
TG: hey  
TG: hey egbert  
TG: look egbert no hands  
TG: woooo  
TG: yeah okay guess you arent there  
TG: kinda figured  
TG: worth a shot though  
TG: egggggggberttttttttttt  
TG: john  
TG: john  
TG: hey john  
TG: johhhnnnnnnnn  
TG: houston has a problem  
TG: and it is called being bored as fuuuck  
TG: dammit come on man im dying here  
TG: im gonna spam you until you answer me  
TG: lets play the how many messages can i send egbert before he responds game  
TG: one  
TG: two  
TG: three

John laughed. Dave was such a drama queen, really. He would have been worried if Dave legitimately sounded like he needed something, but the messages were goofy and joking and just kind of made John smile.  
  
TG: four  
EB: haha, jeez, i’m here!  
EB: and that sounds like a really dumb game.  
TG: it was only gonna be dumb if you didnt respond  
TG: but look it worked  
TG: my magical john egbert summoning powers  
EB: i am not sure how to feel about that!  
EB: you’re so weird.  
TG: no you  
EB: anyway, what’s up?  
EB: you okay down there in texas?  
TG: yeah man  
TG: things are so chill  
TG: frozen solid up in here  
TG: like shit dude you best put on a sweater  
EB: haha i will keep that in mind!  
EB: no but seriously  
EB: you logged off kinda fast the other day.  
EB: i was worried!  
TG: well shucks egbert  
TG: i am so touched  
TG: worried about lil old me  
EB: stop that, you weirdo!  
TG: nah bro im just teasin  
EB: and avoiding the question.  
EB: are things ok?  
TG: why would they not be

John bit his lip nervously. It was sort of an unspoken thing between him and Dave that they didn’t bring up Terezi. Wife-talk was the sort of thing that was supposed to be left to Rose; John didn’t want to bring up all those crappy memories. But it was a question that needed to be asked regardless. He took a deep breath before typing a response.

EB: you know...  
EB: with terezi?  
  
There was an agonizingly long silence. Dave usually responded rapidly, and the hesitation was making John nervous.

TG: theyre fine  
TG: everything is fine  
TG: fine like china bro  
TG: all intricate and expensive and shit  
TG: like the kind you display in a cabinet  
TG: fuckin decorative yo  
EB: all right, all right, i get it!  
EB: that’s good though.  
EB: lemme know if the game changes though, all right?  
TG: yeah sure dude

John frowned. That was a frustratingly vague response, and John was almost positive that Dave was still avoiding the question. Yeah, asking about Terezi had definitely been a bad idea, but at least she was now a confirmed taboo topic of discussion until further notice. John made a mental note.

Suddenly, John’s phone began to buzz. He squinted at the caller ID; it was his dad.

“Hello?” John answered, leaning away from the laptop screen.

“John!” came his dad’s warm voice. John smiled; the voice reminded him of a weird but welcoming mixture of tobacco and cake mix.

“Yeah, what’s up?” John asked, checking the time. It was only eight thirty, but his dad usually didn’t call this late.

“I have big news. Do you mind if I stop by?” Dad sounded a little nervous, which puzzled John a little. The man had always done exactly as he pleased, despite being polite about it. It was weird to hear him ask permission.

“Yeah, no problem!” John agreed. His father didn’t live that far away from him, just enough of a drive that John would have time to straighten up the living room a little.

“Great. I’ll be there soon,” Dad said before hanging up.

John returned to his computer. Dave hadn’t added anything else to the conversation during John’s short interruption.

EB: hey  
TG: hm  
EB: i gotta go tidy up.  
EB: my dad’s gonna stop by in a few minutes!  
EB: he says he has big news!  
TG: sounds titillating  
TG: well you better go make the place fit for dad egbert then  
TG: wouldn’t want to displease the old man  
EB: oh shut up.  
EB: my dad rocks!  
EB: i’m gonna go now though!  
EB: i’ll talk to you later if you’re still online!  
TG: okay

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

John shut his laptop and busied himself with cleaning the living room and clearing stuff off the kitchen table and counter. He wasn’t a messy person; he liked to think of it as “organized chaos.” He had just finished de-cluttering when there was a punctual knock on his door.

John went to go let his father in. Dad stepped into the house and enveloped John in a hug. When he was a teenager, John had been terribly embarrassed by his father’s affectionate gestures, but not so much anymore.

“So can I get you anything?” John asked, pulling away and gesturing vaguely towards the fridge.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” Dad said, setting his briefcase down and meandering into the living room. John quickly obliged, following his dad, who had found a seat in the large puffy armchair by the window. John handed him the glass of water and flopped onto the couch.

“So what’s the news?” John asked.

“Well, son... this may come as kind of a surprise, but I have decided to retire in a few months,” Dad confessed.

John almost choked in surprise. “Really? Wow! Congratulations!” he sputtered.

His dad... retiring. Somehow that really shocked him. John was never exactly sure how old his father was, but he was definitely somewhere in his fifties, and that seemed like a pretty early age to retire.

“I’m glad you don’t disagree with me,” Dad said, breathing out. “I wanted you to be the first one I told.”

“Are you going to be able to do that?” John asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“I should. I had the mortgage on the old house paid off a few years ago, and between working at the shop and a little magic with the stock market, I’m set for a while,” Dad said with a smile on his face. “Plus, Nanna left our family with quite a bit of the Betty Crocker fortune, so you’re probably set too.”

“Wow. That’s incredible,” John exhaled. “Is it gonna be hard? Leaving the joke shop, I mean? You love that place.”

“I do. But I know you love it too, and you’re going to take great care of it,” Dad said warmly. John could have hugged him again. “It’s going to be a process, and I’m not leaving right away, but I just wanted to let you know. And I would like to bequeath you full ownership of Prankster’s Gambit.”

John couldn’t say anything. His mouth was frozen into a wide smile. He knew that Dad would understand. Prankster’s Gambit had always been sort of a second home to him, and the prospect of getting to own it was making him giddy and overwhelmed.

John’s dad stayed for a few more hours, and by the time he left, he had John had come up with a rough plan for the upcoming months. John hadn’t been this excited about anything in a very long time. He rushed back to his room and turned on his computer, hoping to find Dave online. Sadly, his icon was grey, indicating that he was away. Oh well. He’d tell him tomorrow.

Yes, the next few months were going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing and formatting pesterlogs are such a pain.


	15. With The Passage Of Time Comes Change

John wasn’t working today, but he still found himself awake at a decent hour. After showering and dressing for no reason in particular, John decided to see if Dave was online. To John’s excitement, Dave’s icon was bright red.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] –-

EB: hey remember that really big news my dad had last night?  
TG: yeah  
EB: apparently he’s retiring this summer!  
TG: wow   
TG: tell him congrats for me  
EB: will do!  
EB: even better, he is passing full ownership of the joke shop to me!  
EB: i’m gonna own a joke shop, isn’t that crazy?  
TG: thats fuckin awesome dude  
TG: you had better give me a discount when i come buy useless funny shit from you  
EB: i make no promises.  
TG: lame  
TG: whats the point of even having you as a friend if i cant use that friendship to garner sweet deals on pranking merchandise  
EB: haha i am sorry to disappoint you!  
TG: i have never felt so let down in my life  
TG: hey sorry to break it to you but i have to go  
EB: wow, rude!  
EB: talk to you later?  
TG: maybe  
TG: if youre lucky

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John let out a slightly frustrated huff. That was an irritatingly short conversation, and he really really wanted to talk to someone about the shop. He considered calling Rose, but she was probably at work right now. 

He figured he might as well get a start on some of the documents necessary for him to take full ownership of Prankster’s Gambit. It was a hell of a process, and as John printed out stacks and stacks of forms and papers, he understood why the transition was going to take such a long time.

He couldn’t help but check his Pesterchum for any sign of Dave. With each check, he was greeted with an infuriating lack of incoming messages. Why had Dave needed to log off so quickly, anyway?

Later that evening, John was beginning to feel a little ridiculous. He had already called Rose, who was pleased to let him talk about his excitement over ownership transfer of the shop and other dumb things like that. At this point, he was bored of paperwork and was almost obsessively refreshing his contacts list on Pesterchum, waiting for Dave to come online.

He was beginning to feel like a needy teenage girl when suddenly, Dave’s icon lit up. He shook his head at himself as he typed a message.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] –-

EB: hi dave!  
TG: howdy  
EB: don’t do that, you are not texan enough to do that.  
TG: im more texan than you will ever be  
TG: dont you dare deny it  
TG: anyway whats up  
TG: all up and messaging me right away  
TG: you been waiting all day by the computer for me to log on or what

John flushed. 

EB: no! don’t be weird.  
EB: i started on some of the paperwork for the shop  
TG: i see   
TG: how very lonely  
EB: dude shut up!  
TG: hey  
TG: sort of on the subject  
TG: very very tangentially  
TG: i may or may on be online much the next few days  
EB: aw, why?  
TG: well it might have escaped your notice  
TG: but tomorrow is valentines day  
TG: and as a husband  
TG: i am apparently obligated to spend the day with my spouse

John felt strangely deflated. He had kind of forgotten about that. He was bad with dates to begin with, but this sort of seemed to sneak up on him. He’d never been in a relationship of Valentine’s Day, but he’d also never been one of those bitter bachelors who completely denounced love and romance in a fit of holiday-induced cynicism either. 

EB: yeah that’s understandable!  
EB: have fun, i guess?   
EB: haha, i dunno much about valentines day obligations  
TG: well according to terezi neither do i

John wasn’t really sure how to respond. He had the feeling that Dave had been a little more revealing with that particular information than he had meant to be. However, more incoming messages from Dave saved him from the awkwardness of trying to formulate an appropriate response.

TG: hey speaking of  
TG: i have to go again  
TG: talk to you when i get the chance  
EB: bye!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John felt a little nervous for Dave. This was someone who, just over a month ago, had fled halfway across the country for a week. He hoped Dave would be okay. Then again, Dave was a grown man and was perfectly capable of handling himself.

John slept fitfully that night.

~

One of the upsides to being single on Valentine’s Day, John decided, was that he didn’t have to buy flowers or chocolates for anyone. He made this remark aloud to Karkat on the bus ride home from work. Karkat merely grunted his agreement.

“What about you, man? Do you have a significant other?” John asked. 

“Nah,” Karkat shrugged. “Not like I have a ton of time for dating or anything.”

“Aww. Hey, Karkat, will you be my Valetine?” John asked, grinning.

“Lord grant me the patience not to throw you out of this fucking vehicle,” Karkat swore under his breath, just loud enough for John to hear him. John grinned anyway.

He got home and decided to treat himself to a bubble bath. Might as well use Valentine’s Day as an excuse for a little bit of self-love, John thought to himself. Even though bubble baths were kind of stereotypically girly, if anyone had called him out on it, John would have refused to apologize for the calming aroma of lavender-vanilla that wafted from the surface of the water.

John lowered himself into the bathtub, letting the tension dissolve from his muscles. It had been a while since he’d let himself relax fully, and the last few days had been full of anticipatory stress regarding his father’s imminent retirement and full ownership of the shop. 

John’s thoughts wandered to last year’s Valentine’s Day. It had been almost four months since he and Vriska had broken up. John couldn’t quite remember the details – a lot of it was a blurry tearstained haze – but he was pretty sure that he’d moved from the messy-sobbing-about-anything-related-to-Vriska stage into the immature-and-angry-denial stage. He’d privately been a little upset that Rose had spent her day with Kanaya instead of talking to him, even though he adored Rose and knew she deserved to hang out with her awesome girlfriend. 

He was pretty sure that Valentine’s Day was the night he’d eaten a full quart of rocky road ice cream while watching Little Monsters. He vaguely recalled regretting that decision.

As John reflected on the past year, he honestly felt a little better. Things had seemed pretty bleak back then, but John was confident moving forward now. He had a plan for the somewhat-immediate future, and that was good enough for him for the time being.

John left the bath feeling refreshed. It was barely ten in the evening, but John decided to sleep anyway. He didn’t need to be staying up late, stressing about relationships or his job or anything like that. Not tonight. Tonight, he was going to get some hard-earned rest.

~

It was over a full two weeks before Dave logged on again.

John didn’t worry that much about it. Things were starting to get a little bit busy. He had begun to take more weekly shifts at the shop to ease slowly into a more full-time position. 

He was a little surprised to come home and find a message waiting for him in snarky red text.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

TG: miss me?

John’s face broke into a grin. 

EB: oh yes.  
EB: i have been losing sleep over here, strider.  
TG: i acknowledge your pain  
TG: strider withdrawal has some serious side effects  
EB: well i guess i don’t have to worry anymore!  
TG: damn straight  
EB: so how was your valentines day?  
TG: how was yours?

John grimaced. Something about the deflection of the question told John that prying further was probably a bad idea. He decided to humor Dave on this one.

EB: really nice, actually.  
EB: i went to work  
EB: asked my bus driver to be my valetine  
EB: we are basically the plot of a romantic comedy  
TG: that is just  
TG: so precious  
TG: im crying a little here  
TG: someone get me a tissue  
EB: haha you big baby!   
EB: don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone how moved you are.  
TG: i appreciate your generosity  
TG: so kind  
TG: so selfless

John snickered. Dave was such a dork, honestly. 

TG: so how is washington  
EB: typical march. drizzly and unpleasant, mostly.  
EB: oh wait, silly me, that’s literally every season here!  
TG: yeah i wasnt gonna mention it  
TG: but then you did it for me  
EB: i’m great like that.  
TG: indeed you are  
TG: so tell me  
TG: whatcha been doing in my traumatizing absence  
EB: mostly working!  
EB: since dad’s retiring, i’m starting to do more around the store.  
EB: it’s been a little stressful, but overall pretty good!  
TG: oh shit  
TG: hang on a sec

John sighed. Somehow he had a feeling he knew what Dave’s next message would be.

TG: yeah i gotta go  
EB: terezi?  
TG: yeah  
TG: she doesnt like how much time i spend online  
TG: makes her nervous  
EB: i see.  
TG: ill be back online   
TG: at some point  
TG: keep it chill now egbert  
EB: yeah, will do!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] \--

John scowled. He had a feeling that most of his conversations with Dave were going to end like this. He also wasn’t sure if Dave had meant to confirm John’s suspicion that Terezi was behind Dave’s abrupt signoffs. John supposed that this confirmation didn’t exactly count as “talking about Terezi,” so Dave probably let it slide. Still, it made John more than a little uneasy. However, he didn’t want to bring up anything that would exacerbate the situation.

And he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell Dave how incredibly hypocritical it was that Terezi was getting angry with his computer use when she didn’t let him do anything else.

But John still felt that most of this wasn’t his business, and he didn’t really know enough about their situation to offer full advice. He decided he probably could go to Rose, but it was a lot easier and a lot more comfortable just to keep his opinions to himself.

~

Gradually, over a period of months, Dave stopped logging on.

John didn’t really notice at first. He talked to Dave whenever he was online, but his online presence was dwindling. Dave’s icon was almost never alight anytime past eight in the evening, and when it was, the conversations were short and urgent and made John feel inexplicably weird.

They were normal conversations, though; Dave would ask how things were going in Washington, John would try his hardest to ask if Dave was okay without using those exact words, and Dave would systematically and stubbornly rebuff the question.

John was distracted by other things, too. He was bustling around, organizing things for the shop with help from his dad and occasionally Equius, who was set to become a full assistant manager after the retirement. 

John checked Pesterchum religiously, but it was only very rarely that Dave’s icon displayed bright red text. Whenever it did, those conversations were terminated usually within about ten minutes of their initiation. 

Oh John’s birthday in April, Dave popped online long enough to send him a brief happy birthday dorkface before immediately going idle. John wished he could have stayed around longer to talk, but he’d appreciated the gesture.

And then, about mid-May, Dave stopped logging on to Pesterchum completely.

Despite his increasingly hectic schedule, John still found time for his weekly visits to Starbucks with Rose. 

It was a breezy Saturday in early June when Rose asked him suddenly, “When was the last time you heard from Dave?”

John furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “About a month,” he guessed. “But I’ve been pretty busy, and I haven’t been at my computer all the time.”

“It’s been a while since he’s called me,” Rose mused, stirring her coffee pensively. 

“It’s been a while since he’s talked to me, too,” John agreed, taking a sip of his drink. Even though it was early summer, John was a bit too fond of habits to relinquish his hot chocolate fix.

“Do you know anything that’s been going on with him?” Rose continued, pressing the subject a little harder than John was comfortable with. 

“Not really, no. I think the last time we talked was in May, and that was only for a few moments before Dave’s internal Terezi alarm system went off,” John said, trying to remember. 

“I’m worried about him,” Rose confessed. “Usually he calls me at least once every two weeks. Usually more than that, he usually doesn’t shut up. But I haven’t heard from him. And every time I call over there, either at home or directly on his cell, it just goes straight to voicemail.”

John agreed that it was weird. There was a whole lot about the situation that seemed kind of strange. He assumed that Terezi was probably just being overbearing again, and Dave would be communicative again in no time. 

John didn’t think much of it for a few weeks. With the imminent retirement, worrying about Dave sort of got pushed to the backburner. 

He was surprised, therefore, to hear a knock on his door one evening. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and went to go see who was visiting.

The door swung open, and John’s jaw dropped.

Dave Strider slouched on his doorstep, leaning his weight heavily on a large suitcase. His gaze was directed at the ground.

John coughed. “Dave, wh-”

“Terezi and I are getting a divorce.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh ohhh.
> 
> Also, sorry for the two "filler chapters" today. I promise it'll get more interesting soon. Starting with the next chapter, there will be new tags on this story; please keep an eye out for potential triggers. 
> 
> Also, you guys are the best and I love hearing your comments, so please keep 'em coming! <3


	16. Can You Hear Me Now

John’s blood turned to ice in his veins. Almost automatically, he stepped back to let Dave into the house. His mind was racing and he had about a million questions that he wanted to ask, but somehow he knew that talking would be a bad idea.

John walked briskly past Dave into his living room, where he’d been filling out merchandise orders. He pushed the stack of papers brusquely off the coffee table, not caring that they fluttered around and littered the carpet. After dragging the table aside, John stripped the couch of its cushions and pulled out the thin mattress folded into it. He usually used this guest bed for when his cousins came to town, and it had been a while since it had been used, but John ignored the creaking springs.

“Let me grab some sheets,” he said softly to Dave, who was just sort of standing in the doorway and watching. John suspected that he was pretty emotionally spent, so Dave’s responsiveness didn’t really put him off.

He didn’t speak until John had finished making the bed and had poured him a strong drink. They both sat at John’s kitchen table in silence.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dave said quietly, gesturing towards the living room and not meeting John’s eyes.

“Bullshit,” John said hotly. “If you think you can show up at my house carrying suitcases and _not_ be told to stay for as long as you need to, you’d better think again.”

“I was just gonna stay at a motel in town,” Dave said uncomfortably.

“Change of plans,” John said shortly. Dave took a long drink of whiskey in response.

John sighed. “Does Rose know you’re here?” he asked, guessing the answer even before Dave gave it.

Dave shook his head.

“Do you mind if I call her?” John inquired hesitantly. Dave was his friend, and he was more than happy to keep him, but he privately felt that this divorce stuff was way more up Rose’s alley than his.

To John’s surprise, Dave protested. “I’d ‘preciate it if you didn’t. Kinda sick of women and their horseshit right now. I’ll tell her in time.”

John nodded solemnly. Despite his lack of expertise on the subject, he was itching to ask about Terezi and the divorce. He never would have admitted it, but he became aware that a small part of him was weirdly glad about this turn of events. That gladness, however, was dwarfed in comparison to the intense feelings of pity and empathy that John currently felt as he watched Dave gaze miserably into the glass of alcohol in front of him. He was treated to a nasty memory of how he had dealt with his own breakup, wallowing in booze and sadness for months. John would be damned if he let the same thing happen to Dave.

“Forgive my saying so,” John began hesitantly, “but you look like hell, man. You should probably get to bed.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Dave agreed, rubbing his temples. “Hey, John?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks,” Dave muttered, getting up from the table and disappearing into the living room.

John leaned against the kitchen counter, suddenly aware of how drained he felt. The full magnitude of the situation hadn’t quite hit him yet, and he suspected that it would be a while before it did. John thought briefly about the papers strewn across the living room and promptly decided to finish them tomorrow.

~

John returned home from Prankster’s Gambit to a very delicious scent assaulting his olfactory senses. He slung his jacket over the doorknob and poked his head into the kitchen.

He grinned in spite of himself. Dave was standing in the kitchen, his ears covered with a thick pair of noise-canceling headphones. He nodded his head in time to an inaudible beat as he stirred one of the three pots that sat on John’s stovetop. John chuckled; he didn’t even know he had that much cookware.

John casually slid into the kitchen to get a closer look. Dave appeared to be searing some kind of fish; hints of citrus and herbs wafted from the pan. He stirred what looked like mashed potatoes, and a fresh salad sat on the counter in a glass bowl.

Dave turned around and jumped about a foot in the air when he saw John. He yanked the headphones away from his ears so that they rested around his neck. His cheeks had flushed pink.

John was laughing at this point. “Sorry, dude, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t hear you get home,” Dave said. “What were you tryin’ to do, give me a fuckin’ heart attack?”

“Yes, that was exactly my plan,” John said, rolling his eyes. “What’s all this about?” He gestured to the pots and pans that littered the kitchen.

“Oh. Uh. I’m making dinner. Is that okay?” Dave asked, sounding a little nervous. “I mean, I know I only just got here, I don’t wanna encroach on your space or anythi—”

“Relax, it’s fine,” John chuckled. “Where’d this food come from?”

“I kinda borrowed your car and went grocery shopping,” Dave admitted sheepishly.

“Well, whatever works,” John grinned. “Need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good, the fish is almost done,” Dave said, lifting the sides of the meat very tenderly with a spatula.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” John said fairly, retreating to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes. When he re-emerged in a t-shirt and shorts, Dave informed him that the food was ready.

Dinner was delicious. The fish was light and buttery and it practically melted in John’s mouth. He smiled up at Dave. “This is really good, I’m kind of jealous. The only thing I’m good at making is, like, macaroni and cheese. And pancakes.”

 “Just add it to my long list of talents,” Dave smirked.

Where’d you learn to cook like this?” John asked. Dave’s face fell, and John immediately regretted the question.

“Spent so much time stuck at home, figured I might as well make myself useful,” Dave answered after a few moments. John suddenly found himself very not hungry.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” John began, but Dave cut him off.

“S’okay. You didn’t know,” he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed to his place. They finished eating in silence.

“I’ll do dishes,” John announced as he stood up, breaking the awful tension.

“You don’t have to,” Dave protested, grabbing his own plate before John could take it.

“You made dinner, it’s my turn to be useful,” John chided him. Dave scoffed, but he let John take his plate.

~

For the most part, Dave was a good housemate. He continued to make dinner each night; John had jokingly suggested he wear an apron, and Dave had taken the challenge to heart, purchasing one of the ugliest, frilliest things John had ever seen. He wore it unabashedly.

While John was taking more and more hours at Prankster’s Gambit, Dave stayed home, continuing to produce soundtrack commissions. Lacking turntables, he was at a bit of a disadvantage, but he’d downloaded some software on the Internet and it was a fine temporary solution. John noticed quickly that Dave would become nonresponsive for hours at a time, losing himself in the music.

Dave’s mood was mercurial. Most of the time, he was all biting sarcasm and corny jokes, but John knew that he wasn’t quite as fine as he pretended to be. There had been a few incidents similar to the one at dinner that first night, and John was constantly wary of bringing up a subject that reminded Dave of Terezi. Dave was also constantly checking his phone, and John hated watching his face fall every time he discovered that he had no messages. He figured he should probably have a serious talk with Dave, but it was hard to find the right time to bring it up.

One night, about a week after Dave had arrived, John woke up suddenly. He squinted through the darkness at his clock, which read 1:30 in the morning. John groaned, wondering what had woken him up. Suddenly, his ears picked up a small snuffling noise. John hoped that he didn’t have mice again.

The sniffling noise became a little louder, accompanied by small creaks that sounded like a bedframe. John rubbed his sleep-fused eyes and clumsily put on his glasses. He climbed out of bed to investigate.

He realized with a sinking feeling that the noise was coming from the living room. He was also pretty sure he knew where it was coming from. It was Dave, and he was crying.

John froze. He knew that if he had been in Dave’s position, he probably wouldn’t want someone to see him like that. But on the other hand, there was a weird, fiercely protective urge bubbling inside him, an urge that made him want to barge in and do everything in his power to take away all of that suffering.

The protective urge won out.

“Dave?” John asked softly, stepping gingerly into the living room. He could just make out Dave’s figure beneath the covers, and he watched Dave stiffen and pretend to be asleep.

“Come on, dude, I know you’re awake,” John sighed tiredly, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“’S nothin’,” came Dave’s muffled voice.

“No, it’s not nothing,” John contradicted. He reached out to experimentally place a hand on Dave’s shoulder. Dave rolled over, and John realized that he’d never seen Dave without his sunglasses before. Even in the darkness, John could tell that he looked younger, more vulnerable.

“Egbert, your selfless Mother-Teresa thing is the bane of my existence,” Dave grumbled. His eyes fluttered open, and John’s stomach jolted when he noticed the tears clinging to Dave’s impossibly long eyelashes. He was gripped with a sudden urge to brush them away. That was kind of weird, but John wasn’t really in the mood to question it.

“You know I’m here to talk, right?” John asked, much more gently than he’d intended to. “Like, I know all of this sucks to high heaven and if you want to just kind of keep it to yourself, that’s okay. I get it. But you don’t have to keep it to yourself all the time.”

“Okay, Rose,” Dave mumbled sarcastically, but John momentarily saw his mouth curve up in a hollow smile. “I dunno, man. Everything’s just overwhelmingly shitty.”

“I can’t even imagine,” John murmured. His hand was still steadied on Dave’s shoulder, but Dave made no motion to remove it.

“I just don’t know where it went wrong, y’know?” Dave sighed. He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. Shades-less and curled up, he looked more like a child than a grown man. John bit his lip.

“You don’t know much about Terezi, but _damn_ , that woman is incredible,” Dave continued. “I’ve known her forever, she was the only one who didn’t— well, regardless, she was one of my best friends.”

John was incredibly curious as to what Dave had decided not to tell him, but figured he probably shouldn’t push his luck. Dave kept talking.

“I’ve been with her since we were fuckin’ sixteen. We were a freakin’ power couple, too, tearin’ it up and fuckin’ with teachers and all that shit you’re supposed to do when you’re a dumb little kid and you don’t know better. She beat a kid up for me once. We went to the same college and everythin’. ‘Course, I didn’t even want to go to college in the first place. Didn’t really know what I wanted to do, honest. But I knew I wanted to be with ‘Rezi, and she wanted to be with me, so that’s where I went.”

John listened in stunned silence. He was brimming with questions, but he kept quiet for fear of silencing Dave.

“She’s amazing. She knows what she wants and she always gets it. Real smart lady, too, I mean, she’s a lawyer, for Christ’s sake. She’s always been givin’ me advice and ideas, and they’re really good, too. It’s ‘cause of her I got my DJ gig when I was seventeen. She’s always been so supportive, why can’t she just be supportive _now_?”

Dave’s voice had gradually risen to a shout, and John jumped a little. He could see Dave was breathing heavily and holding back tears.

“Is this about the photography?” John asked quietly.

“Yeah, it’s about the goddamn photography. It’s _always_ been about the photography. The _one_ time I find something I actually wanna do with my life and she can’t find it in her fuckin’ heart to be okay with it—”

Dave’s outburst was interrupted by the tinny sound of John’s phone ringing in the next room.

“What in fresh hell…?” John wondered aloud. It was almost two in the morning. Who would be calling him at this time? He was tempted to let it go to voicemail; he’d finally gotten Dave to start talking about Terezi, and he got the sense that Dave was actually willing to be forthcoming with information—

“You better get that,” Dave said, turning away from John and pulling the blankets closer into himself. John dragged a hand through his hair. This was _exactly_ what he hadn’t wanted to happen. He cursed inwardly as he stumbled into his room to his ringing phone. He didn’t even look at the caller ID before answering.

“Hello?”

“John! _Hiiiiiiii_!” came an excited female voice on the other end. The pulsing dance music in the background suggested a nightclub. Probably a wrong number; John didn’t know anyone who screeched like that. But then again, she did say his name.

“Uh, who is this?”

“Don’tcha remember meeeeeeee?” the voice giggled. “It’s Vriska!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get a little serious around here...!


	17. Help Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering references to the new tags that have been added to the story. Please, please continue with caution! I want you all to stay safe!

John’s stomach dropped into his bowels. He sank down onto the bed. This was quite possibly the worst case scenario. His best friend was on the verge of mental breakdown in the next room, and his apparently drunk ex-girlfriend was calling him from a club. Great.

“Uh… Vriska. Yeah, hi. What do you want?”

“Jeeeeeeeez, no need t’ get snippy,” Vriska slurred. “I was jus’ wonderin’ if ya could maaaaaaaaybe come pick me up.”

“Can’t you call a cab or something?” John asked in exasperation. He’d seen Vriska while she was drunk on several occasions, but she had never been _hammered_ before, and dear god, she was apparently very whiny.

“Well, I _could_ ,” Vriska said, and John could almost hear the pout in her voice, “Orrrrrrrr, I could have a han’some young man chauffer me home.”

“Fucking hell, Vriska, this is literally the shittiest timing you could possibly have,” John muttered under his breath.

“Hee hee, I heard that!” Vriska giggled. “But truth be told, I’m baaaaaaaasically broke. No cab fare.”

John scowled. Fucking _perfect_.

“All right, fine, just tell me where you are,” he conceded.

“…tha’s actually a pretty good question,” Vriska said matter-of-factly. John almost screamed. “I’m somewhere by th’ Sound, ‘f that helps.”

“No, it doesn’t, but whatever. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Get to the waterfront if you can.”

“You’rrrrrrrre a _gem_ ,” Vriska breathed.

“Yeah, I’m fucking stellar. I’ll be there soon. Don’t get arrested or do anything stupid.” John hung up the phone unceremoniously. He hated himself for how easily he’d given in to her. That was _not_ how he’d expected any sort of reunion to go.

John stalked back into the living room. Dave was sitting up again, his eyebrows arched.

“That was Vriska,” John sighed.

“I heard,” Dave said. “You better go get her.”

“She can wait,” John said angrily.

“Just go get her. I’m fine,” Dave insisted. He was ducking his head, refusing to meet John’s eyes.

John crossed his arms and appraised Dave, feeling his expression soften a little.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” He asked finally.

“Yeah,” Dave responded. John didn’t like the tone of his voice. In it, John could hear disappointment and resignation and a host of other unpleasant emotions that had absolutely no business plaguing Dave Strider.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” John promised, though it nearly killed him to say those words. “And then we’ll talk?”

“Yeah, we’ll talk…” Dave trailed off and burrowed back under the covers. John walked over and rubbed his back lightly.

“As soon as possible. I promise.”

Dave didn’t respond. John quickly hoisted on a pair of sweatpants, not caring that he looked like he’d just crawled out of bed. He stood outside the door of the living room, listening for Dave’s soft breathing. He sounded like he’d fallen asleep. _Good,_ John thought. _The poor guy needs it._ John grabbed a jacked on his way out. He had to get this over with quickly.

~

Finding Vriska along the waterfront was not difficult. She was leaning against one of the railings overlooking Puget Sound, drunkenly shouting lewd pickup lines at one of the patrol officers; John seethed with secondhand embarrassment for her. As soon as she saw him, Vriska squealed loudly and raced towards him, throwing her arms around his neck and knocking the wind out of him.

“’M so glad you’re _heeeeeeeere_ ,” Vriska said loudly into his ear. John winced. He wordlessly pulled her off of him and began to steer her in the direction of his car.

This was the first time he’d seen Vriska since they’d broken up, almost a year and a half at this point. He hadn’t really thought about seeing her again, but he had to admit that he wouldn’t have imagined it going something like this. Disregarding the messy hair, slinky black dress, and drink-swollen eyes, she didn’t look much different, and John supposed that was a good thing.

Vriska babbled the entire way back to the car. John suspected she had taken a few shots for the road, because she was nearly incoherent. He tuned out her chatter, thinking about Dave. It had almost broken John’s heart to watch him talk about Terezi. Dave’s face had shown love and pain and loss and anger and John was afraid he was going to tear up. The unbidden image of Dave’s face as he recited his wedding vows swam to the forefront of John’s brain. It made his entire being ache. He hoped Dave was sleeping peacefully.

 How Vriska managed to explain where she lived was a mystery, as she was intoxicated and John was only half listening, but John eventually successfully reached her new apartment. Walking up three flights of stairs was an ordeal, what with Vriska leaning heavily on his arm and shoulder. When they got to her unit, John dug through her purse to find her apartment key and unlocked the door. He led her inside.

“Okay. I’m going to get you some water, and then you’re going to go to sleep,” John said as he closed the door behind him, unable to curb the irritation in his voice. Vriska was pretending not to hear him. Wow, she was really fucking obnoxious when she was drunk. It was like trying to talk to a two-year-old.

“Hey, John,” Vriska whispered. Before John could respond, she swayed towards him, and he quickly turned to catch her. She braced her fall on his forearms and looked up at him. John didn’t like the look on her face; she appeared shocked, but her eyes were just a little too wide and a little too knowing. She adjusted herself to regain her balance, but she didn’t let go of John’s arms.

 “’S good t’ see you again,” Vriska grinned, her eyes darkening dangerously. Before John knew what was happening, she curled her fists around his wrists and roughly pinned him against the closed door. Her lips attacked his, and John could taste vodka and cigarette smoke. He almost coughed, but he was too stunned to move. She sunk her teeth into his bottom lip, ignoring his yelp of surprise and pain.

Vriska directed her attention towards his neck and jawline. She wedged her knee between his legs, effectively trapping him there. John was overcome with a terrifying sense of claustrophobia as she slipped a hand beneath his shirt. _Why aren’t you able to move?_ he thought frantically.

“C’mon, wha’ssa matter, babe, I remember how you liiiiiiiike it,” Vriska growled against the skin of his neck. Something inside John’s mind clicked, and he began struggling to pull away. She made a displeased noise and recaptured his wrists with a vicelike grip.

“Fucking stop it,” John said angrily, shaking his head violently and twisting to break free. She pressed her entire body weight into his chest, ignoring his protestations. Finally, he worked one of his arms from her grasp and the heel of his hand connected with her shoulder. More harshly than he’d intended, John shoved her away. In her drunkenness, she tripped over backwards and landed with full force on her back.

John stared slack-jawed down at her, adrenaline pumping through his system. He felt unbelievably violated, but he was also sick with himself for what he’d just done. He hadn’t meant to push her away _that_ hard...

For a moment, Vriska looked like a kicked puppy. Although apparently unhurt, her violent seduction had given way to a mixture of confusion and irritation.

“I don’ get it,” Vriska murmured, more to herself than to John. “Why ya so mad at me? This ain’ like you. This ain’ like you at aaaaaaaall.”

“Was this your fucking plan?” John demanded, his initial shock wearing off and quickly being replaced with fury. He began to shake.

“I missed you, baby,” Vriska pouted up at him. “R’member how ‘t used t’ be? Juss’ the two of us. I _neeeeeeeed_ you.”

“That’s bullshit,” John swore. He could feel his own rushing heartbeat in his ears. “You didn’t fucking contact me _once_ since you left my house!”

“Wha’ was I _‘spose_ to do, John?” Vriska slurred angrily. “I didn’ wanna be disre _speck_ ful, I wanted you t’have yer _space_!”

“It’s been a year and a fucking half, Vris,” John heard himself shout, his fists balling with rage. “Giving me my space is one thing, but going fucking incommunicado for that long? And then you have the _balls_ to call me after all this time, just so you can use me as a cheap fuck?”

“Yer _not_ a cheap fuck,” Vriska protested, seeming appalled at his anger. “I was juss’ gonna tell ya how much I _missed_ ya! An’ I been thinkin’ lately that I wan’ ya back, an’ I was an idiot to leave ya, an’ lemme tell ya that 'm pretty good at gettin' what I want. I juss' wanted to see my John again!”

“So call me when you’re not _blitzed out of your goddamn mind!_ ” John shouted, taking a menacing step towards her. She scooted backwards, looking alarmed. “Tell me, ‘hey, I’m back in town, let’s grab lunch’ or some shit! Don’t fucking call me in the middle of the night to drive your drunk ass home! How could you possibly have thought this was a good idea?”

“Look, this ‘s aaaaaaaall juss’ a huge misunnerstandin’,” Vriska drawled. “’M sorry I fucked this all up, there was prob’ly a better way ta do this, but that don’ matter, mkay? Yer _here_ now. With _me_. Like it _should_ be.”

John was so livid he felt like he was about to go cross-eyed. Vriska was just not listening to him, and he did _not_ have time for this shit. He was shivering with rage, and he was honestly beginning to fear that he was going to hit something. _Egbert, you need to calm the fuck down_ , he told himself. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, refusing to even look in Vriska’s direction.

“Look, okay, you’re really drunk,” John explained slowly through gritted teeth. “I have a friend who is in a _fuckton_ of trouble right now, and he needs me a hell of a lot more than you need me.” He offered a hand to Vriska, who pulled herself up after a few seconds. John half-led, half-carried her into her bedroom. As he was leaving, he heard her protest sleepily.

“Stay.”

John shuddered. That word. That one fucking word that had torn him apart before, that had torn _them_ apart.

He looked back at her. Vriska’s eyes were half-closed, but the expression on her face was the most lucid one she’d had all night. John sighed; he knew what needed to be said.

“No.”

With that, he turned and left her bedroom.

Vriska’s phone was sitting on her countertop and John was seized with an idea. He scrolled through her contacts list, found his number, and promptly deleted it. He only briefly noticed that he felt completely indifferent about doing so.

Once he’d escaped the apartment, John rushed back to his car. He drove like hell, tearing urgently through the neighborhood, his tires whining in protest as he skidded to a halt outside his house.

John noticed that the lights were on. That was weird. They were definitely off when he’d left. Maybe Dave had gotten up to get water or something.

John turned the doorknob, nearly falling into the door when it didn’t budge. That was weird too. He knew for sure that he hadn’t locked the door when he’d left. John knocked. Nothing.

“Dave?” he called, aware that his heart rate was increasing. There was no response. John did not like the sinking feeling in his gut as he fumbled with his keys. The door swung open to reveal an empty foyer and kitchen. There was a lamp on in the living room.

Blood pounded in John’s ears as he approached the doorway. Panic bubbled up inside him, and suddenly he was terrified and he couldn’t explain why. Adrenaline raced through his system, something was wrong, something was very very wrong—

John’s mind went completely blank. A strange ringing began in his ears. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t feel. His eyes struggled to comprehend the sight in front of him.

Dave Strider was sitting at the edge of the pull-out bed, shaking with violent sobs, holding the barrel of a pistol to his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for writing Vriska out of the story like this and I'm really sorry if it upsets anyone. As always, your comments are welcomed and appreciated! I love you guys, thanks for sticking with this story! School is starting for me and I'm getting busier, so updates might not come as frequently, but I won't forget about it!


	18. World Spins Madly On

Everything was fuzzy.

Everything happened in slow motion.

John Egbert was only vaguely conscious of rushing into the room, of watching Dave’s swollen eyes widen in shock, of gently prying the foreign piece of metal and wood out of his best friend’s limp hands and all but running out of the room to get it as far away from Dave as he possibly could.

He didn’t even realize he’d returned to Dave until the ringing in his ears began to die down and all he knew was that his arms were practically fused together around Dave Strider’s waist and his face pressed into Dave’s shoulder.

“Hug me back,” John became aware that he was imploring frantically, voice cracking and panicky. “Goddammit, Dave, please, just come on, work with me, don’t just stand there, please…” Dave seemed to be frozen in place, his head resting heavily against John’s shoulder, breathing slowly and shakily, tears bleeding into John’s thin t-shirt.

John had no idea how long he stood there, clutching Dave to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. John’s own pulse was pounding in his ears, drowning out his own ragged breathing. He couldn’t think, his brain was refusing to cooperate, and every time he tried to process his surroundings he was greeted with the mental equivalent of crackling white noise.

“I been sittin’ there since you left,” Dave whispered suddenly. John pulled back, searching his face. Dave was only a little taller than he was, but right now Dave seemed diminished. In the lamplight, John also realized that Dave’s irises burned a fierce shade of red. That was peculiar, but it was the last thing on John’s mind.

John tried to speak, but nothing was coming out. He hated being tongue-tied, especially at a time like this. This always happened to him, he could never figure out how to say what needed to be said, and it frustrated him beyond belief.

“I’m such a f-fuckin’ coward,” Dave whispered, looking down to shield his eyes, which were quickly becoming wet again. John’s only response was to pull Dave into another hug, and this time, Dave hugged back. He curled his fingers into the fabric of John’s jacket and clung for absolute dear life, as if trying to convince himself that John was real and not just an apparition of some kind. When Dave finally drew back, John sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him. Dave crawled onto the mattress, folding himself into a small ball and avoiding John’s gaze.

John became aware that tears of his own were trickling down his cheeks. He subtly wiped them away as he watched Dave’s figure, hyperaware of every miniscule movement. John wanted to reach out and touch him, almost as if to reassure himself that Dave was there. He couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Fuckin’ figures,” Dave muttered finally. “Can’t even blow my brains out properly.”

John winced at the phrasing.

“This always fuckin’ happens. Never been able to do anything for myself. Yes, hello, my name is David Strider and I have absolutely no fuckin’ clue how to take initiative.” Dave’s voice was raspy and broken, but John didn’t mind. Dave had been silent for far too long.

“All my life, I been followin’ people’s footsteps,” Dave confessed, tears leaking out of his eyes and clinging to his eyelashes, his accent stronger than John had ever heard it. “Didn’t really have a mom and dad, so I was basically raised by Roxy ‘n Dirk. I don’t think you met Dirk, but god, that man’s my hero. Smart, confident, everythin’ I always wanted to be. Tried so hard to be like him, too. Turns out I ain’t cut out to be like that.”

Angry, hot tears trailed down Dave’s face. John bit his lip, stunned speechless. It hurt to hear Dave talk that way about himself, but John wouldn’t have even known what to say even if he’d wanted to speak.

“Actin’ like Dirk worked for a while, ‘specially in high school. Everyone thought I was hot shit. Like, you couldn’t possibly find shit any hotter than me. And I went and got myself the coolest girlfriend ever. She didn’t take crap from no one. Except me, I guess.”

Dave spat the last sentence with contempt.

“Always joked I was gonna be a trophy husband. She was always c-cooler than me. Smarter than me. She had a goddamn plan for me, and I had to fuckin’ _ruin_ it. I _had_ to buy that fuckin’ camera at that fuckin’ yardsale and I _had_ to fall in love with it. Some goddamn boyfriend I was, right? She was so pissed at me when I told her I started takin’ pictures, you have no fuckin’ idea. But instead of respectin’ her, what did I do? I just didn’t tell her. Kept it up behind her back. Worked for a while, but then I had a few photos featured in the college’s art magazine, so secret was out pretty damn fast.”

It was as though every bitter thought Dave had ever had was spewing out of his mouth, and John was absolutely helpless to stop it. Dave wasn’t even trying to stop the tears anymore.; they dripped from his chin into his lap. John absent-mindedly touched the wet spot that Dave had left on his shoulder.

“She threatened to dump me back then, so I stopped, ‘cause hey, if I got to choose between someone lovin’ me and some dumb photos, I’m gonna take the love,” Dave went on. “Kept the camera though, because I’m a fuckin’ dumbass, like that thing didn’t cause enough trouble already. And then what did I do? Got it in my stupid head to start a _photography studio_. Terezi hated the idea from the start, of course. I shoulda just kept my fuckin’ mouth shut.”

John felt an enormous twinge of guilt. The photography studio had been his idea, after all.

“It was a shitty idea to begin with, what the fuck did I expect to happen? She was right to make me sell it. No wonder she stopped trustin’ me, I went behind her back like that _again_ , I didn’t deserve her trust. I didn’t deserve her second chance.” Dave had stopped crying openly, but his voice was still severely shaky.

John was feeling the anger bubbling inside of him again. He didn’t have the words to express just how _wrong_ Dave was about himself, how much it hurt to hear him bash himself. John wondered just how long Dave had been carrying this misplaced guilt.

“I shoulda known somethin’ was wrong when she made me quit spinnin’ at the club,” Dave said hollowly. “She said if she couldn’t trust me about the studio, how could she trust me on other things too?  She was sure I was cheatin’ on her. As if anyone else would want a spineless piece of shit like me, yeah fuckin’ right. I shoulda fuckin’ said something then. Maybe if I’d just manned up and told her no, I wouldn’t be in this bullshit mess. But no, like an absolute idiot, I did what she told me to.”

Dave was angry now, his fists balled into the bedsheets. He still was refusing to look at John.

“Every single _fucking_ time I didn’t do something she wanted, she would bring up the studio. Twist my words and make me feel like shit and remember motherfuckin’ _everything_ I’ve ever said in every conversation ever. Who even fucking _does_ that?”

John had been biting his lips so hard, they felt swollen and tingly. The raw power in Dave’s voice was becoming somewhat alarming.

“And she was so crazy jealous of everyone I talked to, like I was plotting to betray her every single time she was out of earshot. She was absolutely convinced I was havin’ an online affair. Even though she fucking knew I was writing music. She’d accuse me of writin’ songs for someone else, you know, like I used to write songs for her. Finally she just straight up snapped my laptop in half.”

Dave laughed derisively and John’s mouth dropped open. _Holy shit_. He might have thought Dave was joking, but the look on his face was so full of anger and despair that somehow, John didn’t question it.

“So what the fuck did I do? _Nothing_. I moped like a lazy sack ‘a shit. Couldn’t call Rose or Tav or anyone because what the fuck would they be able to do? Nothing. And you know what the best part is? The juicy fuckin’ cherry on top of this shitstorm sundae?”

John closed his eyes, bracing himself for Dave’s response.

“I fucking deserved it. I deserved every goddamn minute that she left me alone. I barely deserved her presence, let alone her affection. I went behind her back, I fucked up, and we both know it. She fucking told me that if I kept doing photography she’d leave me, and I goddamn went and ignored her feelings. She was right; I’m a fucking. _despicable_. husband.”

John clapped a hand over his mouth. Hell fucking _no_. Dave didn’t actually believe that about himself, did he? How long had Terezi been telling him that? A shiver of unadulterated fury shot up his spine. John’s head was spinning and he felt like he was about to pass out.

“Did she actually say that to you?” John asked, his voice hushed and so dangerously low that it briefly startled him.

Dave merely nodded. He looked exhausted and ragged.

“When?”

“...On my way out the door,” Dave admitted, his voice cracking. “Right after I told her she couldn’t boss me around anymore.”

John inhaled sharply. That was absolutely _horrible_.

“S-so I left. I just f-fucking... left,” Dave whispered, beginning to shake again. In the lamplight, John watched his eyes become watery again. “She s-said... if I w-walked out the door... s-she was going to f-file for divorce.”

Dave’s lip wobbled.  John scooted towards him on the bed and threw an arm over his shoulder. Dave leaned into the touch for a few moments before uncurling and turning his body to sob freely into John’s chest. John was a little taken aback from his sudden change in mood. He stroked Dave’s back lightly, feeling it twitch beneath his fingertips.

 “I don’t w-want a divorce…” Dave whimpered, curling his fists into John’s shirt. “I miss her so f-fucking much, every day I wake up without her is just another reminder that I’m a w-worthless fuckup. This b-bullshit always happens when I get s-selfish. I’m too w-weak for it. I’m a c-coward.”

“You’re not,” John said soothingly, but Dave just cried harder.

“I fuckin’ am, l-look at me. I ran the fuck away instead of t-telling her I wanted to s-stay. I haven’t c-called her once because I’m too f-fucking afraid of what she’ll s-say. She d-deserves someone who fucking cares about her. She d-doesn’t want me anymore, and all I f-fucking want to do is d-die, but I can’t even d-do it myself because _I’m a fucking coward!_ ”

Dave screamed the last words into John’s chest, and for a brief moment John was a little bit scared for his own safety, but the outburst seemed to have taken a lot out of Dave, because he dissolved into a weeping, malleable mess.

“Shhhh...” John exhaled softly, internally berating himself for being completely at a loss for words. He smoothed the back of Dave’s hair gently, trying to keep his own breathing strong and steady, hoping that it might bring some kind of comfort.

John realized that Dave was sprawled ungracefully on top of him. One of his legs was beginning to cramp, and the other was falling asleep. His back itched, he kind of had to pee, and there was a piece of hair that kept flopping into his face, but John didn’t dare move, not now. Dave needed him to be strong, and so he was. There was no other option. He would have time for bodily weakness later.

John waited for Dave to cry himself out. It must have been several hours, and John was a little surprised by how much water seemed to come out of his face, but finally, Dave’s red eyes fluttered closed. John made a mental note to ask about his eyes at a later time, when Dave wasn’t so burnt out and raw. John was covered in tears and snot and sweat and he didn’t even care, because Dave was safe and Dave was _alive_.

John silently gave thanks that he’d come home when he did. He shuddered coldly at the thought.

He let himself release a few tears of his own, tears that he’d been trying to fight back all night. He hadn’t wanted to break down in front of Dave, but Dave was asleep and John finally allowed himself to let Dave’s story sink in. John cried for Dave’s childhood, for his abandoned business, for his broken marriage and broken spirit. John cried for Dave because Dave had never cried for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's that.  
> I was listening to [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApInErMBGbA) on repeat while I wrote, and it gave me a lot of emotions, and I decided to borrow the title of the song for the title of this chapter.  
> I am also considering bumping the rating on this piece to M. Thoughts?  
> As always, all comments/questions/criticisms are appreciated! I love you guys, thank you so much for being patient with me and my hella busy class schedule. Y'all rock. <3


	19. Where To Go From Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I have bumped the rating to M. I feel a little bit more comfortable about this rating and I hope you all agree with it!

Light began to seep through the blinds, and a faint twittering of birdsong played outside the window. Slowly, John maneuvered his phone out of his pocket. It was nearly five in the morning. The entire night had passed in such a surreal manner, and he hadn't slept a wink. The cheery sound of sparrows seemed distorted and out of place to John’s ears.

John gently pried himself from Dave’s grip (damn, his fists were like _rock_ ) and stood up. His vertebrae popped as he stretched, and he felt the familiar pins-and-needles sensation in his left leg as it regained circulation. He checked to make sure that Dave was still asleep before limping off to the bathroom.

John quietly took stock of everything that had happened. In one night, he’d found Dave crying, been nearly sexually assaulted by a blitz-drunk Vriska, walked in on Dave pointing a gun at his face (John shuddered violently), and had taken the full brunt of Dave’s painful self-deprecation. Strangely, John found he wasn’t tired. His body was probably exhausted, but John had so much energy he barely knew what to do with it.

He knew he had to call Rose. He felt a little bad about it, since he’d promised Dave he wouldn’t, but John felt that the extenuating circumstances last night were a little too important to be kept from family members.

He dialed her number, forgetting momentarily that it was about five-thirty in the morning.

“Hullo?” came Rose’s groggy voice.

“I have a situation. I’ll be over at your house in forty minutes. Be awake,” John said gruffly.

“Okay, but what—”

“Just do it,” John sighed. He heard her exclaim something before hanging up. She’d probably be upset at him for disconnecting on her, but he knew it’d be the least of her worries.

John grabbed a canvas bag emblazoned with the Prankster’s Gambit logo out of the closet. He padded carefully over to the kitchen drawer where he’d blindly shoved Dave’s gun last night. It was a wonder that he hadn’t accidentally set it off in his panic. Carefully, he turned on the safety of the gun and stowed it in the bag. After a few moments of deliberation, John withdrew some of the sharper blades from the knife block in the kitchen and lowered them into the bag as well. With the gun and knives went most of the medicines in John’s bathroom cabinet. John felt a bit like he was child-proofing the house, but the thought of anything happening to Dave made him feel physically sick, so he figured it was better to be overprotective.

John tiptoed back into the living room. Dave was still sleeping peacefully, and he didn’t look like he’d be waking up anytime soon. This was good. John made his way over to Dave’s suitcases. He felt weird rummaging through his best friend’s things, but he didn’t want to take the chance that Dave had taken any other weapons with him; the gun had been more than enough of a scare. To his great relief, he found nothing else.

Dave might have still been sleeping, but John didn’t like the idea of Dave waking up to an empty house. He returned to the kitchen, pulled a pen and a scrap of paper towards him and scrawled a note.

_Dave—_

_If you wake up and I’m still not back, don’t worry. I’ve just gone out on a few errands and I’ll be home soon. There’s apple juice in the fridge. If you need anything, please please please call._

_—John_

Satisfied, John capped the pen and laid the note conspicuously on the kitchen table. As he left, he made sure to close the door as quietly as possible. Once outside, he typed a quick text message to his dad.

I am feeling pretty under the weather today. If you or equius could cover the shop for me today, that would be very much appreciated.

Not even a minute later, John received a reply.

I will take care of it. Feel better, son.

John smiled and stowed his phone in his pocket before pulling out of his driveway and hightailing it for Tacoma.

When John arrived at Rose’s house, he was a little surprised at how quickly she answered the door. She was wearing a thick black bathrobe over a lavender nightgown, and her hair was uncharacteristically messy. She looked a little strange without her dark lipstick. Clearly she had not been awake for very long.

“I made hot cocoa,” Rose said by way of introduction, ushering John into the house. She cast a suspicious look at the canvas bag in his hand. John wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to tell Rose; he had been brainstorming during the whole drive, and he hadn’t really come up with anything.

Rose handed him a steaming mug, and John detected a little bit of cinnamon in the chocolate. He smiled wanly, taking a small sip.

“So why exactly are you at my house at bullshit ‘o clock in the morning?” Rose asked, pouring a mug of cocoa for herself. It was apparent that she was not a morning person.

“This is going to sound crazy, but you’re going to need to let me talk without interrupting,” John began. Rose nodded.

“Well… Dave’s in Seattle.”

Rose raised her eyebrows, but, true to her word, she stayed silent. John proceeded to tell Rose about Dave showing up at his house a week previously. He told her about the divorce and the circumstances that caused it. He told Rose about Vriska and about the gun. During his story, the color had drained from Rose’s face, but her expression remained impassive. John’s own lip was quivering, and he realized that even talking about Dave’s situation was very emotionally taxing, although that might have been because he was operating on less than two hours of sleep. Once he had finished, he fell silent, searching her face for a reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was in town?” Rose asked once she finally found her voice.

“He didn’t want me t—”

“He’s my _brother_!” Rose shouted, slamming her hand on the table. John flinched, but Rose went on. “He might be your friend, but he is my _goddamn family._ It’s my fucking job to protect him, John!”

“There was nothing you could have d—”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Rose snarled, getting to her feet. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me that. I would have found a way to keep him safe, I wouldn’t have left him alone to go pick up my lush of an ex-girlfri—”

“Excuse the _fuck_ out of you,” John interrupted loudly. “I know I shouldn’t have left him, it was really fucking stupid of me, but he’s _still alive_ , Rose. He’s alive and he’s breathing and he’s safe, okay?”

“ _No thanks to you!_ ” Rose shrieked. John was honestly a little bit afraid that she was going to throw something at him. He’d never seen Rose lose her shit like this, and he didn’t really know how to respond. He had jumped to his feet as well, and was currently staring open-mouthed at Rose, who was breathing heavily and glaring at him like a bull about to charge. Unsure of what else there was to do, John held out his arms for a hug. He’d done so much comforting and calming in the last few hours; it was the first thing that came to mind.

Luckily for him, Rose exhaled slowly and shook her head in a sheepish manner. Reluctantly, she accepted the hug, burying her face into his chest.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Rose said quietly. She sounded like she was about to cry. “It’s just the thought of something happening to him… I’m his big sister, I’m supposed to take care of him, not let him spiral into attempted suicide. Can I… I mean, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble… I’d really like to see him.”

John sighed. “I really don’t want to keep you from him, but he also doesn’t exactly know I’m here, and he also sort of told me not to tell you.”

Rose seemed to have been expecting John to refuse. She placed a hand on his arm. “Dave is my little brother. He is hurting, and I won’t stand aside and let it happen. I have to see him.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” John said dubiously. He didn’t really know how to explain to Rose how much it meant that Dave trusted him, and how hurt Dave would be if he knew John had betrayed his confidence. John also acknowledged that, selfish though it might be, he enjoyed being the person that Dave had gone to first.

“John.” Rose crossed her arms.

“If you see him now, he’ll probably get overwhelmed and he’ll freak out,” John said honestly. “I can strongly suggest to him that he come talk to you, but I really don’t think right now is a great time.”

Rose considered this for a moment. “I can’t really say I agree, but I do know that Dave has always enjoyed having his space, and I can respect that he might want some now.”

“Thank you,” John said, smiling warmly. This was one of the many things he loved about Rose.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. John just placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and said nothing.

“I’m going to go back home and check on him. He’s been sleeping pretty hard,” John informed her. “Do you mind if I leave this here?” He held up the canvas bag. She peered inside and a shiver shot down her spine.

“Not at all,” Rose said firmly. “I don’t want any of this crap anywhere near Dave.”

“Neither do I,” John agreed with a smile. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”  He finished his hot cocoa and left, anxious to get back to Dave.

As John pulled into his driveway, his eyes instinctively gravitated towards the front window. He was desperately relieved to find that the light was still off; he wasn’t really interested in a repeat of last night’s events. John locked his car and slipped ever so silently into the house.

John had only been gone for a few hours, and he was immensely relieved to find that Dave was still sound asleep. Last night must have taken a lot out of him. It had taken a lot out of John, too, but John’s mind was too busy racing for him to have any hope of sleep. Quietly, John sunk into an armchair in the living room with a pile of ownership transfer documents that he needed to complete. He’d been putting them off for a while, but he didn’t really have much to do right now other than mellow out and relish in the soft rising and falling of Dave’s chest. Each little snuffly noise reminded John that Dave was very much alive.

He hadn’t really had much time to be alone and think about everything that Dave had told him.  Now that the heady and confusing emotions had subsided, John recognized that he and Dave needed a plan. He wasn’t worried about Dave needing a place to stay; John’s home was his home as far as John was concerned. But John adamantly refused to let Dave return to Texas anytime soon, and especially not before the divorce was finalized.

So Dave would need to figure out something to do in Washington.

There were some nightclubs in Seattle, and from what little John had heard of Dave’s music, he knew that Dave wouldn’t have any problems with getting hired. But John remembered something that Rose had said ages ago: working at a nightclub was fine for now, but what would Dave do after that? Dave wouldn’t want to become one of those washed-up DJs in their mid- to late-forties trying to convince everyone that he was hip and cool.

John had a sudden idea.

It was a crazy idea, and John was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have had the idea if he hadn’t been almost completely cracked out on no sleep, but it was an idea nonetheless. The likelihood of it working was very small, and the idea of convincing Dave to go with it was even smaller, but if John succeeded, he knew the payoff was going to be incredible.

John Egbert padded out of the living room to go make a few calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm yes let's take a break from all of the sads. Giant sighs of relief for Dave ~  
> Also, John and Rose's friendship is still one of my favorite things to write.


	20. The Hatching of Plans

Later that evening, John still hadn’t slept. He had finished his paperwork, tidied up the house, mowed the lawn, reorganized his refrigerator, anything that would keep him awake enough to keep an eye on Dave.

He was frying pancakes and bacon for dinner when he heard a gruff voice behind him.

“Smells good.”

Dave shuffled into the kitchen and collapsed onto a chair. His hair was disheveled and he was still wearing pajamas. John noticed he’d put his sunglasses back on.

“Hungry?” He asked, flipping some bacon.

“Little bit,” Dave confessed. “What time is it?”

“Almost six in the evening. How do you feel?” John asked, hearing the concern in his own voice.

“Like the goddamn Hulk decided to use me as a punching bag, steal all my shit, and leave me stranded on the side of a desert road,” Dave grumbled.

“Pleasant,” John said, making a face. Dave had carefully avoided mentioning anything about the situation that had transpired last night, so John decided not to press further. He looked over Dave appraisingly; Dave’s hair stuck up on one side from where he had been sleeping on it, and pillow creases lined his face. He was slumped over in the chair, resting his chin in his hands as if it took serious effort to keep it raised.

John sighed. “Here, go lie down. No offense, but you look like hell. It’s a Tuesday, we’ll do breakfast-for-dinner in bed and then movie night.”

“You are the best, it is you,” Dave said tiredly, trying and failing to tidy his hair with his hands. He retreated into the living room.

Two stacks of pancakes and a full plate of bacon later, John found himself sitting on the pull-out bed next to Dave under a pile of blankets, eating from a tray table that he’d found tucked away in one of his kitchen cabinets. Two enormous glasses of apple juice balanced on the table next to their plates.

Dave had surfed through a bunch of movie channels, finally deciding on Bruce Almighty. John didn’t mind, although he did find that he was having a very hard time keeping his eyes open. The room was so dark, and he hadn’t realized how much his head hurt, and he kind of wished he hadn’t given all of his ibuprofen to Rose.

His eyelids were so heavy...

“…John.”

“Hmmmwha?” John asked blearily. Dave’s face swam into view.

“Dude, you been out cold for like twenty minutes. Thought I was gonna have to say your last rites or some shit, like lay you down on a bed of roses and push your coffin into the river like a shitty country song,” Dave said, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry,” John muttered, sitting up a little straighter. He nearly knocked over his glass of apple juice.

“Seriously, you okay?” Dave asked. John was a little touched by the amount of actual worry in Dave’s voice. As if Dave had any business worrying about _him_.

“’M fine, just a little tired,” John said confidently, trying to smile. Jesus, his head was pounding.

Dave looked down. “Did you… did you get _any_ sleep last night?”

John didn’t respond. He took a long gulp of juice, hoping to avoid the question.

“I’m really sorry,” Dave started, but John cut him off.

“It isn’t your fault. I promise.” He laid a hand on Dave’s shoulder again, hoping that Dave would get the message. _You’re still here, and that’s what matters. Don’t mind me. As long as you are okay, I am okay_.

“I shouldn’t have kept you awake,” Dave mumbled.

“You didn’t keep me awake,” John explained, smiling wanly. “I chose to stay awake. I accept your apology, even though you don’t really need to give it, and I forgive you. Capisce?”

“Capisce,” Dave decided after a moment, settling back against the couch. John allowed himself to fully relax for the first time in a while. Two more movies later, John decided that the battle to keep his eyes open was one that he was inevitably going to lose. The tray table piled with dishes had moved to the floor, and John found himself resting his head on Dave’s shoulder. Dave wasn’t particularly tired, having been asleep for the majority of the day, but he didn’t object to being used as a pillow, so John didn’t move.

~

John slowly became aware of a faint buzzing noise.

He had a text message.

Feeling better?

John screwed up his face at the bright LED light from his phone. According to the clock, it was seven in the morning. He technically had to be at work in an hour, but he really just wasn’t prepared to get out of bed yet.

Still not great. Help would be nice.

Keep resting, son. Equius will cover for you today. You need your strength.

John shut his phone. Sometimes, he had to admit that his dad was awesome.

John rolled over to find a more comfortable sleeping position and found his nose a few centimeters from Dave’s.

_Wait, what the fuck?_

The sudden proximity shot a jolt of energy through John’s body and he jerked backwards with a small yelp of surprise. He hesitantly drew a hand up to his own face, discovering that his glasses were still perched on his nose.

John blinked his surroundings into view. He was in the living room, still on Dave’s makeshift bed, the television displaying static. John reasoned that he must have fallen asleep during movie night last night. He hadn’t been planning on doing that, and it was kind of embarrassing, but he supposed he wasn’t all that shocked. He had been pretty damn tired, after all.

Dave was still asleep, unaware that John had woken up. One of his arms was thrown haphazardly around John’s shoulders, the other one tucked beneath himself, pillowing his head. John had observed yesterday that Dave was a sleep cuddler, which made him chuckle a little bit. It was comforting to watch Dave breathe and to feel his arm tense protectively whenever John moved, as if afraid that John was going to leave.

He wondered if Dave cuddled Terezi like this. Somehow Terezi didn’t really strike him as the cuddling type.

 John was seized with a sudden urge to brush some of the stray blond hairs out of Dave’s face. Man, there were all kinds of strange urges happening lately, but John decided to stick with his usual response, which was to just not think about them. Dave’s sunglasses were off again, and John decided that he kind of liked seeing Dave without them. In the muted early-morning light, he noticed that Dave’s sunglasses obscured a very light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed this before.

John’s phone buzzed again.

How is he?

John smiled fondly at Dave’s sleeping form before replying to Rose.

Good! He’s sleeping now. He looks pretty relaxed.

That is reassuring. Can you ask about me today?

John sighed. He supposed he probably should do that.

Yeah, I will!

Thank you. :)

John laid his phone aside and burrowed deeper under the covers. He didn’t have to go to work, and after these past few days, he figured he was well within his rights to sleep in. He tried not to smile when he felt Dave shift a little closer to him in his sleep. John drifted off almost immediately.

~

John woke up in the empty pull-out bed.

He blinked sleepily to himself a few times before he registered Dave’s absence. As soon as he realized it, a jolt of adrenaline shot through his body and he sat up so quickly that his head spun a little bit. He ripped the blankets off of himself and, in his haste, tripped over them and fell through the doorway into the kitchen.

Dave sat at the table, drinking apple juice with a completely straight face. He arched one eyebrow over the frame of his sunglasses at John’s frantic entrance.

“Hello to you, too,” Dave said, his voice even but hiding a hint of amusement.

“What? Shut up,” John pouted, pulling himself up off the floor and disentangling his feet from the sheets. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You needed sleep,” Dave said, looking away from John. John could tell he was still feeling guilty about keeping him up. He sighed and walked over to the kitchen to grab a bagel. The clock on the microwave read two in the afternoon.

“How long have you been up?” John asked, rubbing some of the sleep out of his eyes.

“Couple of hours. Took a shower, had some food, you know,” Dave said airily. John pulled out the chair next to Dave’s and took a seat. He chewed his breakfast in silence, remembering the text that Rose had sent him this morning. John knew that this conversation would have to happen sooner or later.

He took a deep breath and bit the bullet. “I know you’re probably not going to want to listen to me, but I really think you should talk to Rose.”

Dave looked down at his glass of apple juice and didn’t say anything. His silence was worrying.

“Dave?” John asked.

“…Do I have to?” Dave said finally, still not looking up. His shoulders had hunched and he seemed to be almost cowering behind his shades.

“I mean, I’m not going to make you,” John sighed, wishing vehemently that this conversation was easier. “But if I were her, I would want to know that you’re all right.”

Dave considered this for a few moments. Then, almost shyly, he glanced up at John.

“Can I do it tomorrow?” he asked. “I kinda want to work up to it.”

“You can do it whenever you feel ready,” John assured him, breathing an internal sigh of relief. “And on a slightly different note, I have some news that you might like.”

Dave perked up.

“So I have a cousin, Jane, who’s going to be a senior in high school in the fall,” John began. “Since it’s June, a lot of her friends are getting their senior pictures taken. I wondered if you’d want to take her senior pictures for her.”

Dave looked away again, and John’s heart immediately sank. Had he been too pushy with the photography issue? Had he miscalculated? Oh god, maybe photography reminded Dave of Terezi and John had accidentally brought it up. He felt like slapping himself. _This is why we don’t make decisions when we’re sleep-deprived_ , John berated himself angrily.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” John hurriedly added. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“It’s not that,” Dave said quietly. “It’s just… do you really think she’d want me to? I’m not even a professional.”

“Wait, are you worried that they wouldn’t be good enough?” John asked incredulously.

“I guess,” Dave mumbled.

“Dave Strider, your photography is gorgeous,” John said, his smile widening as he thought about that photo album. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ll bet all of those little high school kids would be desperate to have you do their senior pictures.”

“Do you really think so?” Dave asked, looking imploringly up at John. The sheer amount of disbelief in his expression made John’s heart ache.

“Yeah, man, I really think so,” he assured Dave. The latter’s face broke into a hesitant smile.

“Then yeah. I’ll do the pictures,” Dave decided. John hadn’t smiled so wide in _days_.

~

“Do I really have to do this?” Dave asked through gritted teeth. He and John had been sitting outside Rose’s house for about ten minutes. Dave was shaking slightly.

“I think it’s a good idea,” John said, trying to avoid a direct “yes.”

“What if she thinks I’m weak? What if she hates me?” Dave asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“I promise, Rose could never hate you,” John said soothingly. He patted Dave’s shoulder lightly in encouragement. Dave sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” John promised as Dave climbed out of the car. Dave nodded before apprehensively approaching Rose’s house. John watched as Rose opened the door and ushered Dave inside. John was confident that Dave would be in good hands. Now all there was left for him to do was to wait. He’d brought a book with him, and he figured that this was a good opportunity to get some reading done.

Four hours later, Dave emerged from the house, sunglasses pushed back onto the top of his head to reveal slightly reddened eyes but looking happier nonetheless. Rose waved him off with a warm smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting that long,” Dave apologized gruffly as he got back into the car.

“Not a problem!” John laughed. “How’d it go?”

“Better than expected,” Dave said honestly, arching his eyebrows up. John wasn’t sure he’d ever get over how much more expressive Dave looked without his shades covering his face. “I told Rose the full story. She took it pretty well, considering. She…uh… she sold my gun,” Dave admitted, not meeting John’s eyes. “To some gun shop. She handed me an envelope with the money in it.”

John was a little surprised, but he couldn’t help feeling incredibly grateful. If he had his way, Dave would never have any use for that damn pistol again.

“And… um…” Dave continued, suddenly looking kind of shy.

“What?” John asked.

“She made me promise to see a therapist,” Dave confessed. “Not herself, though, apparently there’s honor codes or some shit that don’t allow you to therapize your siblings. I wish I’d known that a long time ago,” he said, laughing a little tiredly. John was pleased to hear that the laugh didn’t sound bitter or hollow like a lot of them had lately.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that it didn’t suck,” John smiled, pulling away from Rose’s house.

They drove back to Tacoma in comfortable silence. John couldn’t help sneaking glances over at Dave; he was reclining slightly in the passenger seat, resting his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up in a soft, easy smile. John didn’t think he’d ever seen Dave looking so… peaceful.

It looked nice on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, filler material! Sorry it's short and not so plot-oriented, I felt a little fluffy today. :)


	21. Capturing Some Moments

Sometimes John Egbert just liked to sit in bed and do his paperwork. There was something so relaxing about not poring over a desk or table; he could curl up in pajamas and just wallow in his own comfort as he filled out boring merchandise order forms or whatever needed to be done for Prankster’s Gambit. Although John had to admit that it had been nice to get back into the swing of things at work after his unprecedented “sick” days.

John sat back on his pillows. It was almost ten o’clock at night. Sometimes he thought about the fact that he wasn’t the sort of young adult who went out clubbing or barhopping on his nights off. It just didn’t really have the same appeal to him as staying home and getting a head start on his work. Maybe he’d go make himself a cup of tea or something.

Yes, tea sounded good.

John slipped out of bed, pulling on a navy blue bathrobe over his shirt and sweatpants. Even in the summer, Washington could get cold.

John padded into the kitchen and filled up his kettle with water. While the water heated, he retrieved a chipped off-white mug and a teabag from his cupboard. Chamomile. Nice.

The kettle began to steam, and John poured the boiling water into the mug. He let the teabag soak for a while, taking in the herbal smells. Once the water was infused to his liking, John threw away the teabag and began to make his way back to his room, clutching the mug to his lips and blowing on it slightly to cool it down.

He was passing the door to the living room when he heard an unpleasant familiar sniffling noise. John nearly dropped his tea.

Hesitantly, he poked his head in.

Dave was sitting cross-legged on the pull-out bed, looking down at a painfully familiar book with an embossed cover and plastic sheets instead of pages. Dave wasn’t sobbing in quite the way he had done before, but he looked absolutely miserable. John bit his lip.

“Hey,” he said cautiously.

“Oh. Uh, hey,” Dave muttered, closing the album hurriedly. John sighed and walked into the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“You okay?” John asked.

“I dunno why I decided to bring this damn thing,” Dave sighed shakily, gesturing to the album.

John set his tea down on the coffee table and joined Dave on the bed, sitting cross-legged to face him.

“I just miss her a lot,” Dave continued, thumbing the spine of the photo album distractedly. “I guess it’s just kinda hard to look at her.”

John nodded solemnly. He had no frame of reference for the kind of pain Dave must be in right now, but he hoped that he looked appropriately sympathetic.

“And... God, I can’t believe I’m even sayin’ this, but I’m a little scared about tomorrow,” Dave added, looking up at John. Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow, Dave would be taking Jane’s senior pictures. Dave had spent hours over the past few days laboring over his camera, which he had brought with him from Texas and which he had insisted needed repairing.

“Why are you scared?” John wanted to know.

“I dunno,” Dave sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve done a shoot, is all. What if I don’t remember how? What if they’re complete shit? What if Terezi was right, what if this is just a dumb fuckin’ hobby and that I’ll never be able to do anything with it?”

John had heard Dave say this before, and it didn’t make him any less angry to hear it this time. He’d never raised any objections prior to this, not wanting to bash Dave’s soon-to-be-ex-wife to his face, but John had had enough. Slowly and steadily, he reached out for Dave’s shades, pushing them up his forehead and onto the crown of his head so that he could see Dave’s eyes. They were a little watery, and they were currently avoiding John’s. Removing his shades was a weirdly intimate gesture, but a necessary one. John laid a hand on his arm.

“Dave? Look at me,” he said gently. Dave faltered for a brief moment before raising his gaze to meet John’s.

“Have I ever told you, in full detail, the story of when I found that photo album?” John asked, indicating the album on the bed with a small nod in its direction.

Slowly, Dave shook his head.

“It was a beautiful morning. There were no clouds or anything, which as you know is pretty rare here. It should have been just a normal day, I wasn’t doing anything particularly special, but I knew that it would be a day worth remembering. I was joking around with the bus driver on my way to work, and completely by chance, I noticed the album. I opened to the first page and I was immediately mesmerized. It was that picture of Puget Sound at sunset, look,” John said, his voice becoming a little more earnest as he reached for the album and flipped through it until he found the picture he was referencing.

“Those colors right there? They literally made me stop breathing for a split second,” John said, tracing the violet and scarlet hues in the photograph with his finger. Dave’s gaze was still locked onto his face as if not daring to look away.

“And this one of Terezi, on the dock, looking into the sunset,” John continued, flipping the plastic pages until he found the full-body shot of Terezi, looking away from the camera and off into the distance. “This photograph has been stuck in the back of my mind for years. This was the picture that made me want to meet you so badly. This was the picture that made me book a last-minute flight to Houston and seek to talk your ear off about photography. Do you want to know why?”

Dave nodded, seemingly unable to speak.

“Because I wasn’t focused on the subject of the photo. I wanted to know what kind of photographer could compose a shot like this. I didn’t want to know more about the woman, or what she was thinking, or any other thing that art critics might point out. I wanted to know what kind of person would be able to take a shot like this and make it so overwhelmingly pensive and mysterious and enticing.”

The words were flowing out of John’s mouth almost as quickly as he thought them. _Yes_. He had been waiting for so long to talk to Dave about the photos, to gush with wild abandon, and he was finally getting his chance. He hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to say before, but he felt he was doing pretty well with his improvising.

“I have never been the same after seeing these photos, Dave,” John said a little breathlessly. “I have been wanting to talk to you about this for so damn long, you have no idea. But I didn’t, because of Terezi. And _you_ didn’t, because of Terezi. Well, i hate to break it to you, but Terezi is _wrong_. These photos are stellar, they are inspiring, and if she could see all of your potential like I can see all of your potential, she would agree with me.”

John didn’t even care that Dave winced a little when he mentioned Terezi’s name; Dave was still listening to him and John supposed that was a good sign. He took that as an indication to continue.

“The bottom line is this. I can see how much you love photography. And anyone who has as much passion for this as you do is bound to take some pretty fucking great pictures. All you’ve got to do is find that passion and use it, and you’re going to do the best photo shoot the world has ever seen,” John finished. He was gripping Dave’s hands tightly, almost begging Dave to listen to him.

Dave looked stunned. His eyes hadn’t left John’s, and they had begun to tear up again. The skin on his arms and neck had risen into goosebumps, and he worked his mouth a few times before any words came out.

“I... uh... I dunno what to say,” he said finally, sounding a little choked. “I had no idea that… wow, shit…”

“Just wanted to let you know that I believe in you, and you’re totally going to rock it,” John smiled. Dave coughed.

“I better get to bed,” Dave said in the gravelly voice he seemed to adopt whenever he was close to tears. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Sweet dreams,” John grinned, grabbing his tea off the coffee table. He took an experimental sip; it had gone lukewarm, but John found he didn’t mind.

~

John stepped out of the car. The weather left a little to be desired; it was still pretty overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining. Dave had assured him that this kind of lighting was best for portrait pictures anyway, because the subject wasn’t blinded by sunlight.

John’s pep talk last night seemed to have instilled some vigor in Dave; John hadn’t seen him this excited... well, ever. He was jittery and his teeth were chattering a little; John only teased him about it once or twice on the drive over.

They had decided to meet Jane at one of the nature trails in the Washington area. It was one of Dave’s favorite places to take pictures, and it was very beautiful at this time of year. John tugged uncomfortably at his clothes; Dave had insisted that he dress up a little bit just in case Jane wanted any pictures with him. John had stuck his tongue out, but he’d finally conceded to a heather-gray button-down over a muted blue shirt. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it wasn’t a hoodie either.

Dave sat on the trunk of John’s sedan, fiddling with his camera lens. He took a few practice shots as if to warm up.

“Yes, I’ll bet that tree trunk will be a great addition to the senior photos,” John laughed, poking Dave in the arm. Dave made a face and snapped a quick photo of John.

“Hey, don’t I have to sign a waiver or something that lets you take pictures of me?” John complained, blinking the flash out of his eyes.

“Nah, you gave up that right when you started actin’ like a doofus,” Dave smirked, playing with the buttons on his camera.

An olive green Jeep Wrangler pulled into the hiking trail’s parking lot. John felt his face break into a grin; oh, how he missed his cousins. It was so typical of them that they still kept their “safari car,” even though they’d been living in upstate Oregon for the last few years. Grandpa had gotten roped into some rainforest research gig and had sent the kids back home so that they wouldn’t be on the island by themselves. Jane had gotten the opportunity to go to a public high school, and Jade and Jake had both found jobs in one of the many national parks in the area.

 The car had barely made a full stop before the back door swung open and a short girl with a black bob and scarlet-framed glasses leaped out and raced towards John.

“Janey!” John exclaimed, catching her in a hug and swinging her around in a circle a few times. Jane giggled as John set her back down.

“John, it’s great to see you!” came another female voice. John’s cousin Jade was walked towards them, wearing thick brown hiking boots and a hunter jacket that seemed much more fitting for the jungle than for a suburban Washington trail. Her bright green eyes shone behind big round glasses as she pulled John into a hug. She was only a few months older than he was, and growing up, they had been inseparable.

“Hello, Jade!” John laughed.

“Absolutely a pleasure, old chap,” came the voice of his cousin Jake. He was a little taller than John, but a lot broader. He was tanned and rugged from spending so much time outside. Jake was the oldest by a few years. The family liked to joke that Jake had spent too many of his developmental years listening to Grandpa’s old British radio shows and had accidentally picked up his very faint English accent that way. Jake shook John’s hand firmly, and John nearly winced with the strength of his grip.

Dave was leaning casually against John’s car, uncharacteristically shy. John noticed his apparently discomfort.

“Oh! I’m dumb, I completely forgot,” John said, smacking his forehead. “Dave, these are my cousins: Jake, Jade, and Jane. Confusing, I know. Cousins, this is Dave.”

“Simply delighted,” Jake said jovially, extending a hand to Dave. John almost snickered as Dave’s eyebrows shot up with the force of Jake’s enthusiastic handshake. He’d forgotten to warn Dave that Jake came on a little strong sometimes.

Jade surprised Dave again with a hug. John supposed she probably came on a little strong too. Perhaps he should have mentioned to Dave that his cousins were an eclectic bunch.

“I’m Jane,” Jane said sweetly, extending a hand to Dave.

“How ya doin’, Jane?” Dave smiled back, drawling a little.

Jane giggled. “Are you from the South?”

“Texas, born and bred,” Dave laughed.

“That’s really cool!” Jane said earnestly. “What are you doing all the way up in Washington?”

John’s breath hitched in his throat. Jane was a total sweetheart, and the question was completely innocent, but he was nervous about Dave’s reaction.

Thankfully, Dave recovered more quickly than John did. “Just visiting some friends,” he smiled.

“Are you liking it here?” Jane asked. The girl was a conversation machine.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great! It’s not too hot, at least,” Dave grinned.

“Yes, I imagine it does get pretty toasty down there,” Jane said thoughtfully. Her face brightened. “So what are we going to do today? Gosh, I’ve never had my picture professionally taken before.”

John smiled fondly as he watched Dave’s chest puff out slightly at the word ‘professionally.’

“Well, little lady, let’s talk through a few of our options,” he said proudly, launching into a detailed explanation of how he usually did photoshoots. His words were a little uncertain at first, but Jane’s unwavering attention seemed to embolden him. His shoulders relaxed the longer he spoke, and he seemed to really enjoy answering Jane’s questions and responding to her input.

Jade sidled over to John. “Dave seems really cool,” she said, nodding over to him. He was currently letting Jane fiddle around with his camera, something John had _never_ seen him do before; Dave had gotten a little huffy when John had asked to examine it.

“Dave’s a great guy,” John said warmly. “He’s been through some tough shit these last few weeks, though, and I think this is doing him some good.”

“Well, he and Jane seem to be getting along famously,” Jade remarked. Dave was taking a few experimental shots of her face, presumably trying to figure out the lighting.

“Yeah, well, Jane gets along famously with pretty much everyone,” John said fairly. Jade made a noise of agreement.

The photoshoot lasted several hours. Dave and Jane both seemed to be enjoying themselves thorougly; Dave would facetiously make a ridiculous suggestion, and Jane would do it simply as a challenge, and it became sort of a game. John and Dave had both laughed in surprise when she shimmied up a tree and hung upside-down from one of the branches. “Jane, get _down_ from there,” Jake had called in alarm, but Jade had socked his shoulder and told him to lighten up. Jane was laughing and having a great time, and her enthusiasm was contagious.

The sun was beginning to hang a little low in the cloudy sky when they traipsed back to their cars. Dave had a camera full of pictures, and the way he bounced a little when he walked told John that he was incredibly proud of them.

“Can I look through them?” Jane asked excitedly.

“Usually I’d say no,” Dave began. Jane pouted, and Dave started laughing. “But for you, I’ll make an exception. Only a few, though, you’ll want the rest to be a surprise!”

Jane beamed as she scrolled through some of the photos. She handed the camera back to Dave.

“These are fabulous,” she gushed. Dave flushed a little and scratched the back of his neck.

“Seriously, Dave, they’re stunning. Do you have a business card or anything? I’ve got some friends who still need to take their senior pictures, and I want to tell them about you,” Jane continued as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dave’s mouth dropped open slightly and John watched him struggle for words. John was pretty impressed himself; this photoshoot had been meant as an outlet for Dave’s repressed creative powers, and he had not been expecting something like this to come of it.

“I... uh... gee, kid, I’m real flattered,” Dave stammered, his accent becoming more pronounced like it ususally did when he got emotional. “But I don’ have a business or anythin’ fancy like that.”

“You totally should!” Jane exclaimed, smiling radiantly up at him. “Can I at least have your email address or something? If it’s all right with you, that is!” Jane immediately searched his shocked face for signs that she’d overstepped her boundaries.

Dave’s features softened as he examined her eager expression. Finally, his shoulders fell.

“Yeah, sure. I don’t have paper or anythin’, though,” he decided.

“That’s okay! You can just type it in my phone,” Jane said earnestly, handing him the device. Dave typed in his email address and returned it to her.

“Thank you so much!” Jane smiled. “Think of it as free advertising.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Dave said, almost too quietly for anyone but John to hear. John’s smile was making his cheeks hurt.

John bid farewell to all of his cousins, promising to be in touch. The Wrangler sped out of the parking lot, and John and Dave climbed back into the sedan.

“That went well, I think,” John grinned as Dave slumped back into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. Wow. Holy shit,” Dave breathed. “I have not had that much fun in a really fucking long time. Your family is exhausting, dude.”

“Yeah, aren’t they great?” John said happily. He pulled out of the parking lot to begin the drive back to Seattle.

“Was she serious?” Dave asked suddenly.

“Was who serious?”

“Jane. About the photos,” Dave said distractedly. He was scrolling through the photos, inspecting each one carefully.

“I don’t think Janey could lie to save her life,” John said honestly. “She freakin’ loves them, dude.”

Dave’s small smile almost made John’s heart burst with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, look at all this fluff. *hugs self and smiles dorkily*   
> For some reason, the idea of Dave and Jane being super good friends makes me ridiculously happy. :B


	22. Of Real Businesses and Scarlet Irises

Talking to Dave Strider when he was in one of his photography moods was nearly impossible. He had uploaded all of the pictures from Jane’s photoshoot onto his computer and pored over the pixels long into the night, tweaking the lighting and adjusting the colors only minimally. Dave had lectured John at breakfast that he tried not to go overboard with photo editing, believing that natural beauty was the simplest kind of beauty. John had called him a dork and thrown Cheerios at him.

Jane was even more excited about the finished product than John and Dave combined. She had sent Dave a few emails so far, checking up on his progress. He’d laughingly told her that it was a process, but he’d emailed her the files of some of her favorites just as a teaser. Her responses had been overwhelmingly positive thus far.

John was glad to see that Dave finally had something to pour his energy into. Dave generally seemed to hide his perfectionist tendencies well, but when it came to this project, he labored over each shot for hours at a time. John frequently had to remind him to eat.

John also had to remind him of his first therapy appointment. Rose had twisted a few arms and called in woman named Meulin Leijon. Ms. Leijon had also agreed to see Dave pro bono. John wasn’t quite sure what sort of mysterious power Rose held at her office, but he and Dave had both been pretty impressed. (“That’s just like my sister,” Dave said when he’d found out, his voice a mixture of exasperation and pride. John merely laughed.)

The morning of the appointment dawned, and John trudged, half-asleep, into the kitchen to find Dave awake at the kitchen table, manipulating the colors in one of Jane’s pictures. Dave had taken to waking up before the sun, which had thrown John off at first but was now something he was getting used to.

“Why do you even get up at the asscrack of dawn, anyway?” John grumbled, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Gotta get these things done,” Dave said, enthusiastically nodding at the computer. “Plus, I couldn’t sleep,” he added a little nervously.

“Worried about the appointment?” John asked.

“Yeah. This is starting to feel less like a vacation and more like an ‘oh shit things are getting serious’ situation,” Dave admitted, sipping his coffee in a pensive way that reminded John a little bit of Rose.

“Hey, I’m sure it’ll all work out,” John said warmly. “The point of therapy is to help you. And if it doesn’t help, find a different therapist.”

“If you insist,” Dave grumbled, returning his gaze to the computer. John finished his breakfast and got dressed. Ms. Leijon worked in Seattle, and Dave had planned to ride the bus with John into the city and find his way to her office from there.

“C’mon, we have to go or we’re gonna be late,” John said, laughing as he waved a hand in front of Dave’s focused face.

“Jerk,” Dave complained, smacking John’s hand away.

Together they took the short walk to the bus station. Karkat pulled up and opened the doors, raising his eyebrows when Dave stepped on too.

“Friend of yours?” Karkat grinned at John.

“Hey, I’m allowed to have those,” John laughed.

“Blond hair, dark sunglasses... you wouldn’t be the photo album guy, would you?” Karkat asked Dave, who seemed a little surprised to be addressed.

“Um... yeah, I guess I am,” Dave said, shooting a sidelong glance at John, who rolled his eyes.

“God, this idiot would not shut up about finding your photos,” Karkat informed Dave with a laugh. John found himself oddly embarrassed. He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

“That was like a full two years ago, how do you even remember that?” John asked exasperatedly.

“Because it was hilarious and ridiculous,” Karkat snickered.

“Well, I got the pictures back, so I guess his nonsense paid off,” Dave joked, earning him a slug on the shoulder from John.

They joked with Karkat all the way to John’s usual stop. John quickly reminded Dave of the stop he needed to get off at to get to Ms. Leijon’s office before clambering off at his own stop.

Dave’s appointment had been at eight thirty in the morning, but it was almost noon when the bell over John’s shop door rang and Dave sauntered in, carrying two small personal pizzas.

“I grabbed lunch,” he said brightly.

“I see that,” John laughed. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, so John had no problem taking the topmost pizza out of Dave’s hands and retrieving a slice.

“How was your morning?” John asked through a mouthful of dough and cheese.

“It was really great, actually,” Dave informed him. “Meulin’s really cool, she knows a lot of stuff about a lot of things and we mostly just spent the appointment getting to know each other. She’s pretty chill.”

“That’s great!” John beamed. “Rose did say she was one of the best, after all.”

“Well, Rose is, in fact, occasionally right,” Dave grinned, taking a large bite out of his own pizza. “Don’t tell her I said that,” he added, shooting a somber look at John.

“You know me, my lips are sealed,” John laughed, mimicking shutting his lips with a zipper. Dave rolled his eyes and continued.

“Anyway, after the appointment I ran back home to grab my laptop. I’m pretty sure I can finish Jane’s pictures today if I work hard enough.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t get in my way, you’re free to hang around here,” John said. “It’s been pretty empty, and I could use some company.”

“Feelin’ lonely, are we?” Dave drawled heavily on purpose, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t be weird, it’s just nice to have someone cool to spend time with and stuff!” John pouted.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Egbert?” Dave grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

John stuck his tongue out and threw a rubber chicken at him. Dave ducked, and the chicken knocked over a display stack of beaglepuss disguises. John sighed.

“Now look what you made me do,” he groaned laboriously, picking up the scattered eyebrow glasses and attempting to reorganize them.

“I claim no fault in this,” Dave grinned as he slunk back behind the counter and into John’s office.

The day passed slowly. Dave sat in the back office, working relentlessly on Jane’s photographs. John was in and out of the office a few times, mostly to fetch papers or restock some of the smaller items, and each time he was there, he peeked over Dave’s shoulder. Every photograph was gorgeous. Somehow Dave had managed to capture the tiniest of Jane’s expressions and magnify them into sets of charming and beautiful snapshots. Jane’s eyes had never looked bluer, and her cheery smile never brighter, than Dave’s photographs made them seem.

Just as John was about to close up shop, Dave burst out of the office.

“I finished them,” he said, nearly breathless with excitement. He dragged John by the arm towards his computer.

John’s mouth dropped in awe as he flipped through the slideshow of Jane’s pictures. They were flawless. Dave was right; he’d done very little editing on most of the photos, mostly clearing away noise and maybe selectively blurring a few. There were almost two hundred photos in the slideshow, and John loved every single one of them. As a joke, he’d also included a few of the pictures Jane had taken. There was a particularly goofy one of Jake, who wasn’t paying attention and was talking animatedly with his hands.

“Wow,” John grinned when the slideshow had returned to the first image. “They’re stunning.”

“I’m glad you think so, thank you,” Dave said with a proud smile. It occurred to John that this was the first time Dave had allowed himself to gracefully take a compliment on the photos. The thought put him in an even better mood.

Dave emailed the slideshow to Jane, copying both Jade and Jake to the message. He’d already discussed payment with Jade, and even though it had terribly embarrassed him to accept any money for the photoshoot, Jade had finally talked Dave into it. The email instructed Jane to pick some of her favorites, and Dave would get her some wallet-size prints in addition to a few larger prints.

Dave closed his computer with a satisfied noise. “Well, let’s go home,” he said cheerily.

Home. The word made John blink. Home was a place that now included Dave Strider. John wasn’t quite sure when that had happened, but he also was pretty sure that he didn’t mind.

~

Jane was ecstatic about her photographs, so much so that she had physically called John’s phone and asked to talk to Dave in person. Dave had been surprised at her enthusiasm, but he accepted her thanks modestly.

To Dave’s complete shock and John’s utter amusement, Dave received several emails over the next few days from friends of Jane.  All of them spoke very highly of Jane’s senior photos and shyly requested more information on setting up appointments for their own.

“You going to do those other appointments?” John asked idly. Dave was frowning at his computer screen, fingers poised over the keyboard but unable to formulate a reply.

“Hell, I dunno. I mean, why not, right?” Dave said distractedly. “It’s just that I... have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you have a studio before now?” John asked.

“Well, yeah, but I co-owned it, I hired people to take care of arranging stuff like this,” Dave admitted, flushing a little.

John laughed. “Here. First let’s set you up a website,” he suggested.

They spent several hours playing around with a few free website builders. By the evening, John had helped Dave assemble a rather professional-looking website. With Jane’s permission, Dave had uploaded a few of her photographs to the gallery so that potential clients would have something to look at. Dave also created an email address specifically for photography and posted the address on his contact page. He then responded to each of the emails he’d gotten to his personal account, directing them to his website and offering to set up photoshoots.

Both men sat back with a warm feeling of accomplishment. “Shit, Egbert, I got myself a real business goin’ here, don’t I?” Dave grinned, stretching in his chair lazily. He lifted his shades onto his head to rub his eyes tiredly.

John caught a quick flash of scarlet irises before Dave’s hands obscured them, and he was reminded of the first time he’d seen Dave’s eyes. It had been _that_ night. John almost shuddered at the memory. He decided he’d ask Dave about it.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something,” John said cautiously. There was probably a reason Dave didn’t bring it up willingly, and John wasn’t really looking to push boundaries.

“Hmm?” Dave acknowledged.

“Your eyes,” John said hesitantly. Dave winced a little.

“What about ‘em?” he asked gruffly, quickly flipping his shades down again.

“No, don’t do that,” John said, almost without thinking. He reached out to prop Dave’s shades on top of his head again. “I like ‘em.”

“Well that makes one of us,” Dave grumbled. His good mood seemed to have completely vanished, which made John scowl a little.

“Why don’t you like them?” he asked. He wished Dave would stop averting his gaze.

“I dunno. Habit, I guess. It’s not so big of a deal now, but imagine bein’ a little kid and trying to make friends, and all the other kids’ Texan Upstanding Christian Parents were convinced that I was the spawn of the devil or some dumb shit,” Dave shrugged.

“Oh no, dude, that sucks,” John said sympathetically.

“Yeah, and it was even worse since I didn’t have parents or anythin’. Roxy and Dirk’s eyes are weird colors too, somethin’ about an albino gene somewhere along in our DNA. At least Rose’s are kinda normal, they’re purple but they look blue most of the time. Not me, I got stuck with fuckin’ fire engine red,” Dave explained. He sounded annoyed but resigned to his fate.

“Is that why you wear sunglasses all the time?” John asked.

“Yeah. Dirk started doin’ it when he got to high school so kids wouldn’t stare at him. He got some for me too. Roxy didn’t give two fucks about what people said about her, though, and Rose’s were normal enough that people didn’t really pay that much attention,” Dave said.

“Well, I think they’re pretty cool,” John said earnestly.

Dave made a face at him and flicked the glasses back down over his eyes, but John caught a brief glimpse of a smile before Dave turned his head away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grrr, more silly filler chapters of dorks being dorky. :) I'm glad Dave is getting help. Poor boy needs it.  
> Also, I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've posted a chapter here; my semester is hellies crazy and I don't have as much time to sit down and write as I would like to. I just wanted to thank you guys all again so much for being patient with me. If for some reason you feel like contacting me or anything, [here](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) is my tumblr! I love you all so much! <3


	23. It's A Gift

John rapped his knuckles on the door and stepped back. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, but his stomach had begun to twinge and he couldn’t quite explain it. _This is casual. This isn’t a big deal. It’s just a small get-together of people who are celebrating my dad’s retirement_.

John glanced nervously sideways. Dave stood next to him, clutching a wrapped gift. The gift had been Dave’s idea, but John loved it. Dave’s camera hung around his neck, as he’d offered to take pictures of the event. One of Dad’s business partners was holding this particular celebration, and John hoped he was at the right house.

The door opened, and Dad stood in the doorway.

“Welcome!” He said excitedly, ushering John and Dave into the house. “Glad you could make it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” John said, smiling. “Dad, this is my friend Dave. The one who’s been staying with me.”

John hadn’t told his father the full extent of Dave’s story; he had mentioned that it was a sensitive subject and that Dave would be staying until further notice. Dad had been very understanding about it, but John was still a little anxious.

He needn’t have worried.

“It’s great to meet you,” Dad said affectionately, extending his hand to Dave, who shifted the present underneath his arm in order to shake it. John laughed to himself; this was a much mellower greeting than the ones Dave had experienced from his cousins.

“Where should I put this?” Dave asked, holding up the gift.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Dad said warmly. “You don’t need to get me anything!”

“Trust me, Mr. Egbert, you’ll love it,” Dave promised. Dad smiled and directed him towards a table with some other gifts on it. Dave excused himself, leaving John alone with his father.

“How is he doing as far as his mystery situation goes?” Dad asked, keeping his voice low.

“Better,” John assured him. “He took Jane’s senior pictures a few weeks ago, and he’s been in a really good mood ever since. He’s already scheduled five or six other sessions. I think it’s knocked him out of his funk a little bit.”

“That is excellent news,” Dad said, smiling broadly. “Keep taking good care of him, that’s what Egberts do.”

“Yeah, I know,” John laughed. “Hey, speaking of Jane, do you know if they’re all coming here?”

“I believe Jade and Jane will be at the party, but I think Jake had to work,” Dad informed him.

“Jane’s gonna be so excited to see Dave again,” John grinned. “They’re basically best friends.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Dad laughed. “Well, you run along. I have to socialize, it’s one of the burdens of being the guest of honor.”

Dad clapped a hand on John’s shoulder and gave him one final smile before moving along to talk to other people. John found Dave by the food table, taking photographs.

“Yes, good, you’d better record those hors d’oeuvres for posterity, it would be terrible if someone were to forget what was on the veggie trays,” John teased as he watched Dave snap a few pictures of the assortment of snacks.

“Yo, shut up,” Dave grunted, sticking his tongue out. He let the camera hang from the strap around his neck and began loading a small plate with cocktail meatballs. John grabbed a plate of his own, and they began looking for a place to sit.

Most of the tables were occupied; John recognized a fair number of the guests at the party, most of them having been in business with Prankster’s Gambit since before Nanna had died. Several of the men had been present when the shop had opened, all friends of Nanna’s, and they had watched both John and his father grow up. He greeted several of them as he and Dave walked by.

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Popular,” Dave joked under his breath.

“I’ve known some of these guys for my whole life,” John said fondly. “They helped Nanna open Prankster’s Gambit back in the 50s, even though she owned all of the rights to it. They ran it while she was pregnant with my dad and stuff. They’re kinda all like grandpas to me.”

“That’s really cool,” Dave said honestly. John wished Dave had kept his sunglasses off, but Dave still wasn’t comfortable without them in public. John missed having full access to all of Dave’s facial expressions.

The door opened, and John looked up to see Jane and Jade walk into the house. Jade had brought Becquerel, her enormous white dog. He barked in excitement upon seeing Dad, who had approached the door to greet them, and John grinned as Jade flushed and told the dog to be quiet. He paid her no mind, preferring to rear up on his hind paws and greet Dad in a giant canine embrace. Dad laughed as Becquerel lapped his face with doggy kisses.

“Bec, _no_ ,” Jade sighed loudly, trying to yank him down.

“Relax, Jade, he’s just being friendly,” Dad smiled, offer Becquerel a few affectionate pats on the head. “It’s great to see you girls!”

“It’s great to see you too,” Jade smiled, hugging her uncle.

“And here’s my youngest niece!” Dad exclaimed, smiling widely as Jane hugged him tightly. John smiled. Dad was very impartial as far as his nieces and nephews went, but he had always had a soft spot for Jane. John suspected that it was because Jane looked a lot like Nanna as a little girl. Jane smiled broadly and released him.

“Retirement already, huh?” Jane laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m old, let’s get all the jokes out of the way now,” Dad chuckled, ruffling her hair lightly. Jade had returned outside to leave Bequerel in the fenced-in front yard, as per the suggestion of the business partner who was hosting the retirement party. John sighed contentedly and sat back in his chair. He realized that Dave was looking at him with an inscrutable expression.

“What?” John asked, raising his eyebrows. “Is there something on my face?”

“What? No, sorry, I was just thinkin’,” Dave said, a little distractedly. John furrowed his eyebrows.

“C’mon, dude, you can tell me. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that your family is pretty cool, I guess,” Dave said. He sounded a little moody. John opened his mouth to say something but was cut off with an excited ” _Dave!_ ”

Jane had spotted them at their table and was making her way over, clutching a paper plate stacked with cheese and crackers. She pulled out an empty chair and plopped down next to them.

“Good to see you, Jane,” Dave greeted her, looking visibly happier. “How’s your summer been?”

“It’s _awesome_ ,” Jane began, launching into a detailed description of some event that she and her friends had attended. John couldn’t help but smile; it was impossible not to love Jane.

“...and _anyway_ , my best friend Calliope was saying that she was excited for you to do her senior pictures,” Jane said, beaming up at Dave. He flushed a little; John could tell he still wasn’t completely comfortable with people praising his photography. He was about to respond when one of Dad’s associates started clinking the side of a glass with a spoon. The three of them turned towards the direction of the noise.

“We would like to thank all of you for coming to this celebration,” the associate said, surveying the room. “As many of you know, the Egbert family has been in possession of the Prankster’s Gambit vintage joke shop for over fifty years...”

He began to drone about the history of the joke shop and Nanna’s business prowess. John was trying so hard to pay attention to the speech, but it was worse than his college history lectures. To his right, Dave was wearing his typical emotionless expression, and Jane next to him was gazing at the associate, her mouth hanging open slightly. A few tables over, he saw his father’s expression, both courteous and terribly uninterested. John tried not to chuckle.

“...we have been very honored to have been able to work with the elder Egbert, and we hope that the younger will be able to uphold the shop as well as his predecessors!” The associate finished, smiling broadly at the room, which erupted into polite applause. Mr. Egbert stood next.

“Thank you for all of your kind words,” he said graciously. “And my thanks to all of you for showing up here to celebrate this old man’s retirement. However, although I will not be working there anymore, I will not be gone from the shop forever. It is my mother’s legacy and my son’s inheritance, and it will forever hold a dear place in my heart. I would like to thank my son, John, for taking ownership of Prankster’s Gambit, and I hope he gets as much out of it as I have.”

John flushed a little as he felt all eyes in the room turn to him. Jane and Jade were both beaming, and Dave’s poker face had broken into a small smile. After an encouraging nod from his father, he cleared his throat and stood up, looking around the room a little awkwardly. He wasn’t much for public speaking, but he figured he should probably say something.

“So I was a little surprised when my dad told me he was planning on retiring,” John began. He fought not to chew on his lower lip, very aware that all eyes in the room were trained on him. “And I was even more surprised when he said he was passing down the joke shop to me. I mean, it was basically my second childhood home.”

John glanced quickly down at Dave, who nodded encouragingly. He coughed slightly and continued. “Anyway, I can’t think of a way to repay my father for the many wonderful years I’ve had with Prankster’s Gambit, and the many years that are still left to be enjoyed. But I needed something to show him how much it means to me, so I put together a little something that I hope will mean a lot to him.”

John nodded at Dave, then went over to the table with all of the presents on it. He grabbed the one that Dave had placed there earlier and made his way over to where Dad was sitting, smiling proudly. Dad carefully unwrapped the gift, and John watched as his mouth dropped open.

It was a picture frame in three parts; one of the pictures was a copy of a very old newspaper photograph which depicted a stout woman with thick glasses and prominent front teeth, beaming at the camera and standing in front of the newly-opened storefront of Prankster’s Gambit. The photograph was dated April 13, 1946. John couldn’t believe that they’d been able to find it; he and Dave had dug through the archives at the Seattle library for the better part of an afternoon.

The photograph beneath it was more recent, from 1997, showing a younger-looking Dad holding a sleeping, dark-haired infant. It was the day he had taken ownership Prankster’s Gambit, a year after Nanna’s death. It had been a little easier to find; Dad kept the photograph on the desk in his office at home, and John had borrowed it just long to make a copy of it.

The final photograph was the newest. It was a simple portrait of himself, standing before the storefront. The shop hadn’t changed much since it was built, although the building had worn down a bit and the sign had been renovated in the last year. But the sun had hit at exactly the right angle, and John had relied on Dave’s particular artistic touch to capture the best moment possible.

John glanced at his father, who had a hand over his mouth and looked close to tears.

“Thank you,” he said finally, once he was able to speak. He stood up and John found himself crushed in a fatherly embrace. But whereas his teenage self would have scoffed and squirmed to get away, this time he let his dad envelope him with affection.

A few more people gave speeches after that, but John wasn’t really listening. He retreated to his table and looked on with satisfaction as people crowded to get a good look at the frame.

“I have to say, it’s really cool seeing three generations lined up together like that,” Jade said after she had fought her way through the crowd to look at it.

“It really is,” John agreed. Dad walked over to their table to join them.

“That was one of the most special things I have ever received,” he informed John, who grinned in spite of himself.

“It was actually Dave’s idea,” John admitted. Dave flushed bright red and seemed to withdraw into himself as John’s dad turned to him.

“That was absolutely brilliant. And am I to guess that the third picture was your handiwork as well?” Dad asked.

Dave nodded, a little shyly.

“You have a real talent, young man,” Dad said, smiling warmly at him and clasping one of Dave’s shoulders. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Dave mumbled, clearly thoroughly embarrassed. His face remained red even after Dad left the table.

“That was your idea?” Jane asked, wide-eyed.

Dave shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“Well why are you so modest about it? That’s such a good idea, you should be really proud of yourself!” Jane exclaimed before going back to her plate of food.

Dave glanced downward, but John could see him smiling to himself, and that made John’s own smile that much wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I am so sorry that it's taken so long for me to update. It's break and I finally have time to write more! Thank you guys so much for being patient and I hope you continue to enjoy, dear readers! <3


	24. Calm Before The Storm

Being the full-time owner of Prankster’s Gambit was a little different than John had anticipated. He rarely worked behind the register anymore; in fact, he wasn’t often in the shop at all, and when he was he spent most of his time filling out paperwork in the back office and answering phone calls. Equius manned the shop most days, but John figured he probably needed to hire another employee so that his father wouldn’t have to pick up shifts if Equius needed time off.

“Why don’t you ask Janey?” Dave suggested over dinner one night after John had voiced some of his stresses.

John pushed some spaghetti around on his plate. “I would, but she’s a senior in high school. She’s got other stuff to worry about. It’s her last year of being a kid, y’know?”

“Pfft. When I was her age I was workin’ nearly full time,” Dave commented.

“You worked at a nightclub,” John laughed. Dave grinned, his eyes crinkling. John felt a rush of warmth; he liked that Dave almost never wore his shades in John’s presence anymore, unless they were out in public. John enjoyed being able to read his expressions.

“And I was damn good, too,” Dave said fairly. “Why don’t you just do what normal employers do, and advertise that you’re hiring?”

John sighed. “I don’t know, man. I guess I don’t want to have to go through the process of interviewing random people who will just treat this job like a normal gig, I guess. Prankster’s Gambit is really special to me, and I want someone who will appreciate it for what it is. When my dad hired Equius, he made sure that the guy had a ton of respect for the establishment. Although to be fair, Equius has a ton of respect for everything. It’s a little strange.”

“It is sorta off-putting,” Dave agreed. “I think I get what you mean, though. For what it’s worth, I’d totally work for you if I didn’t have my own gigs goin’ on.”

John watched as Dave tried and failed suppress a small smile. Dave’s business had taken off in the last few months, given his popularity amongst Jane’s high school friends as a senior portrait photographer. It was late August, and with the school year fast approaching, he had a photoshoot scheduled nearly every day. John could tell that he still felt a little bit bad about accepting money, but Dave no longer awkwardly avoided compliments on his work.

John finished his spaghetti and left his plate in the sink before retreating back into his room-turned-home-office. Maybe he’d ask Jane eventually, but he’d probably wait until she was out of school. Yes, that seemed like a good course of action.

~

With the almost-daily photoshoot appointments and Dave’s continuous therapy sessions with Ms. Leijon, or Meu, as Dave had taken to calling her, it was rare that John saw Dave during the day, despite the fact that he worked from home more often than not. Dave’s mood had been on the rise over the last month or so, and the number of times that John had found him in the morning, eyes red and swollen after a long sleepless night, had dwindled significantly. He could tell that thoughts of Terezi still hovered, ever-present, in the back of Dave’s mind, but Dave had enough distractions lately that sometimes John sort of forgot about her.

Until one evening, when John was enjoying some rare free time. He had borrowed a collection of H.P. Lovecraft’s stories from Rose – or rather, she had forced it upon him during one of their still-weekly coffee dates – and he hadn’t gotten an opportunity to crack it open until now. The text was a little more heady and overwhelming than his usual taste in literature, but he could see why Rose liked it.

He was interrupted from descriptions of writhing, many-tentacled mystical beasts by a small cough outside of his door.

“Dave?” John called, bending the corner of the already severely dog-eared page and shutting the book.

Dave shuffled into the room, shades sitting squarely on his nose and lower lip set into a thin line. John had been living with Dave long enough to know that Dave was barely keeping it together.

“Hey, what’s up?” John asked, his brow furrowing. He sat up against the headboard of his bed and folded his hands in his lap.

“Are you busy?” Dave inquired after a few moments. John shook his head and Dave sat down gingerly next to him, leaning back against the headboard and not looking at him. His breathing was a little unsteady, but he said nothing.

“Dave, are you okay?” John asked, his concern skyrocketing rapidly. Dave was silent, playing with the folds of John’s blanket in his nervous hands. He didn’t look well; his complexion was pallid and he sat completely withdrawn into himself.

John laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Dude, you gotta work with me here,” he said softly. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Dave shook his head very gently, but he didn’t pull away from John’s touch. John sighed and scooted closer to Dave in order to comfortable swing his arm over the other’s shoulders. Dave leaned gently against him; John could feel him shaking.

There were a few minutes of tense silence. John’s heartbeat was racing and he was afraid to prompt Dave for anything else out of fear of pushing him away.

“I got...” Dave began finally. He drew a deep breath. “Another photoshoot request.”

“And?” John asked.

“Well... it’s for a wedding,” Dave admitted, his lower lip quivering slightly. John felt his heart drop into his stomach. _Shit_. He pulled Dave closer to him, almost instinctively, a protective gesture.

“What did you say?” John asked.

“I, uh, haven’t responded yet,” Dave admitted shakily, still refusing to look at John. “I can’t do this, man, I can’t do weddings, I don’t even want to think about marriage an’ shit, but the pay is real good and it’d be stupid of me to pass this up –”

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” John interrupted, alarmed at the rate at which Dave’s voice was rising and straining. “Don’t even think about the money, it’s not worth your well-being.”

“The fuck kind of professional photographer refuses to do weddings?” Dave protested angrily, fighting tears desperately.

“The independent kind,” John answered calmly, squeezing Dave’s arm comfortingly. “This is your business, right? You’re not working for anyone except yourself. You make your own rules. And if you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.”

“What do I tell ‘em?” Dave mumbled, picking at his fingernails anxiously.

“Tell ‘em you’re unavailable for the day. Tell ‘em you don’t have experience with weddings. Tell ‘em you don’t feel up to it. You don’t owe them anything,” John consoled softly. “And besides, if you’re gonna be this much of a wreck, the photos probably aren’t going to be up to par anyway.”

Dave gave a watery chuckle, and John released a sigh. Dave was going to be all right for now. But the blond man made no effort to sit up or leave, and John didn’t move his arm.

“I just can’t fuckin’ believe that this is still affectin’ me,” Dave grumbled. “It’s been two damn months. Just pisses me off, y’know?”

“You don’t have to get over it right away,” John assured him. “You’re allowed to still be upset.”

“But I don’t _wanna_ be,” Dave sighed. John thought he sounded tired and somehow _old_.

“I know you don’t. But things are gonna get better. I promise,” John said matter-of-factly. He gave Dave a one-armed hug, and Dave let out a sigh of resignation. Neither of them moved for a few minutes. John thought about Terezi for the first time in a while; angry as he was at her, he was rather surprised that she hadn’t tried to contact Dave yet. They hadn’t heard from her at all since Dave had been in Washington. It occurred to John that Terezi may not have actually filed for the divorce. What had Dave said?

_...she said... if I walked out the door... she was going to file for divorce..._

But had she? It was possible that she had reconsidered in the last few months. He knew that Dave would inevitably have to talk to her again, divorce or no. He really ought to tell Dave to consider contacting her... but the stronger, more empathetic part of him was content to let Dave stay here with him until he was ready to face Terezi himself.

John dozed off, so lost in fretful thoughts about beautiful blind women and legal papers that he didn’t even notice that Dave had fallen asleep against his chest.

~

“...so I told her, right in front of everyone, that I _knew_ she’d violated a rule of doctor-patient confidentiality and I was going to report her, and then – John, are you even listening?” Rose demanded, tapping her finger sharply on the table in front of John’s coffee cup. He blinked.

“Hmm? Yeah, of course I am. What happened after the meeting with your boss?”

Rose rolled her eyes so hard that John was surprised they stayed in her head. “What? Sorry, I’m just a little distracted today,” John admitted.

Rose sighed. “You’ve been distracted a lot lately. I apologize for being so boring.”

“No, you’re not boring! I love hearing you talk about psychology and therapy and things!” John protested, but as soon as he noticed Rose chuckling, he shut up, flushing a little.

“Anyway, what’s on your mind?” Rose asked. “Might as well clear it out of the way.”

“Just stupid stuff about Dave,” John admitted. Rose’s eyebrows raised in a concerned sisterly fashion. John hesitated; he didn’t know how much Dave and Rose talked, and he wasn’t sure how much Dave wanted Rose to know about his situation.

In truth, it was becoming apparent that Dave was incredibly bored. The wedding request had been almost two weeks ago, but since then, Dave hadn’t taken on a photoshoot gig, claiming he wasn’t feeling up to it. He’d tidied up the house and he was almost always cooking or baking, but he was still mopey, and John hated it. Dave had been doing so well before the request, but lately he’d taken to spending almost all of his nights in John’s room. John suspected that Dave didn’t want to be alone, and he wasn’t one to begrudge his friend a glass of apple juice and a listening ear. As a result, John was losing sleep and he was desperately behind on work. 

“He hasn’t done a photoshoot in a while, and I think he’s driving himself crazy with nothing to do,” John admitted. It wasn’t a _total_ lie, after all. Rose narrowed her eyes – the woman had an uncanny ability to sense half-truths – but she didn’t say anything else and John didn’t elaborate.

“This might seem like a strange question, but have you heard from Terezi at all?” Rose asked. John frowned slightly. Rose had never been one to show her emotions outwardly, but her contempt for her sister-in-law was quite clear.

John shook his head slowly. “I haven’t. And I don’t think Dave has, either, because I don’t think he’d be able to keep himself together this well if she had contacted him.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” Rose sighed. “But it does confirm my suspicions. It seems that Terezi has made good on her promise to Dave.”

“Her promise being...?” John prompted. He knew the answer, but it made him feel sick anyway.

“I received his copies of the divorce papers a while ago,” Rose said. “I assume Terezi had them sent to my house, since it would have made sense for Dave to be staying with me. I didn’t bring them with me now, but I also haven’t told Dave yet because I’m waiting for him to be well enough to deal with it.”

“Shit, he’s not gonna handle it well,” John groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t think so,” said Rose unhappily. “I haven’t read through all of the papers yet, but it appears Terezi has become a full-time lawyer with her firm and will be representing herself should the divorce go to court.”

“Court?” John asked, shocked. “Why would she have to take him to court? What the fuck has he done to her? He should be taking _her_ to court!”

“Expensive litigation proceedings are not the only method of divorcing,” Rose explained. “If an agreement can be reached without anyone filing claims against anyone else, then no court proceedings are necessary and the only costs incurred are the ones for the mediating attorney.”

“Makes sense,” John mused. So Dave would probably have to go and see Terezi again. John didn’t blame Rose for insulating Dave from these issues.

“I don’t know when to tell him,” Rose sighed. “His mandatory period of separation is almost up.”

“He’s got a therapy appointment on Thursday morning,” John remembered. “You could come over on Wednesday and we could help him through it.”

“I hate that this has to happen,” Rose grumbled. John laid a hand on hers, a gesture of solemn agreement. John knew that Rose was just as determined to protect Dave’s safety and sanity as he was, and that was a very comforting thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I have no idea how divorces work, all my information comes from the internet, so sorry if it's not super accurate. I also apologize for being so slow in my updates... being busy is the worst. Thanks to everyone who is still keeping up with this story; y'all are the reason I keep writing. <3 As always, reviews comments are appreciated! I love you all!


	25. The Other Shoe Drops

Even though he knew it had to happen, John still hated lying to Dave. It was an innocuous enough question.

“Why aren’t you going in to work today?” Dave asked at breakfast through a mouthful of Applejacks cereal. John made a face.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, jeez,” he said, avoiding the question and glad to be facing away from Dave as he stood at the counter waiting for his toast to pop up. Dave pouted and shoveled a spoonful of artificially-flavored cereal into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously loudly. John turned around and made a face at him just as the toaster _ding_ ed.

Dave swallowed his cereal and spoke again. “For real, though, why’d you decide to not go in this morning? You’ve been talking all week about how Wednesdays were like, the only days you could go and do inventory or something.”

“I’m just not really feeling that great, I guess,” John shrugged, smothering his toast with strawberry jam. It wasn’t an incorrect statement, necessarily; the dread of having to talk to Dave about Terezi tonight was twisting his stomach into knots. He suddenly felt as though he had lost his appetite and stared despondently at his breakfast.

“Are you sick?” Dave asked, brows furrowing with concern. “I mean, you gotta let me know if you’re contagious or anything, don’t wanna get Egbert germs all up on my healthy self.”

“I’m going to cough on everything you love,” John deadpanned.

“Seriously dude, if you don’t feel good you shouldn’t be up this early,” Dave chastised. “I mean, the only reason I’m even awake right now is ‘cause I have a shoot in like –” he checked his watch – “half an hour. Which means I should probably get going.”

Dave tipped the contents of his cereal bowl back into his mouth, the milk filling his cheeks to chipmunk size.

“You’re so gross,” John laughed, taking another bite of toast.

“ _You’re_ gross,” Dave said after gulping obnoxiously. He stood up and slung his camera case over his shoulder.

“Have a good day at work, honey,” John quipped sarcastically, batting his eyelashes.

“Go back to bed, man,” Dave grinned as he walked out the door.

John sighed. He really should be going into work today. But he wanted to be home when Dave got back from his photoshoot, which would probably be later in the afternoon, and anyway, Rose only had one appointment today and she’d promised to drop by at noon. Still, he felt absolutely useless, and the awful sensation of dread kept nagging at his insides. Maybe Dave was right, and he ought to take a nap. Against his better judgment, John crawled back into bed and fretted himself into a fitful sleep.

He awoke to the doorbell ringing and shot up out of bed, completely disoriented. John slammed his shoulder against the doorframe of his bedroom as he staggered out into the living room and towards the door. He didn’t even want to think about how disheveled he looked as he swung open the front door.

Rose’s eyebrows shot up.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said in an amused voice. She was dressed in a smart business suit and was clutching an official-looking manila envelope to her chest. John’s heart sank as he remembered the reason for Rose’s visit.

“No, you’re fine, come in,” John said, his voice crackling.

“Overslept, I see,” Rose observed, laying the envelope onto John’s kitchen counter after sweeping away toast crumbs with her sleeve.

“No, I just had to tell Dave that I was sick and then he told me to take a nap,” John sighed, mussing his hair with his left hand.

Rose’s smile faded slightly. “How is he? Is he okay?”

“He’s at a shoot right now, but he was in a pretty good mood when he left. He’s usually pretty happy after shoots,” John informed her.

“I hate to bring down his good mood,” Rose said sadly, throwing a glance at the envelope. John knew what was inside, and he really wasn’t looking forward to having to go through all of it. But he and Rose had decided that it would be best for the two of them to go through all of the documents first so as to soften the blow for Dave if there were any unpleasant surprises within.

Rose helped herself to a glass of water and John hesitated slightly before pulling the envelope towards himself.

“Best just to bite the bullet, then?” he asked. Rose nodded and took a seat at the kitchen table. John joined her and pulled the wad of legal forms out of the envelope.

It wasn’t as bad as John had anticipated; the forms included Terezi’s divorce petition and a financial affidavit that laid out all of their shared property. It took a few hours, and John was a little dizzy by the time he was done reading all of the papers.

“Well, all I can say is that it’s a good thing she and Dave don’t have kids,” Rose said, breaking the tense silence. “This looks like it can be settled fairly easily.”

John scoffed. He didn’t say it aloud, but he doubted there was going to be anything easy about this. Even if he seemed okay now, John was terrified of what would happen when Dave had to see her again.

“Is there any way Dave can just, like, sign off on these papers and be divorced and not have to deal with any of this shit?” John asked.

“No, he has to attend a court hearing in a few weeks, although they want him to go back to Texas as soon as possible so that he and Terezi can talk over their finances with a mediating attorney,” Rose said, reading off of one of the documents.

John sighed. “That’s really stupid. Does he have to?”

Rose looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, the alternative is Dave having an enormous meltdown in front of the judge and jury. Speaking as a licensed family therapist who has seen this sort of situation before, it’ll be faster and less painful for everyone if they talk things over first.”

“I hate that he has to do this,” John scowled, pulling all the papers towards him and organizing them into piles.

“I do too,” Rose agreed. “I think I’m going to go with him to Texas.”

John looked up at her. “How long is all this stuff going to take? Are you going to be able to take that much time off?”

“Dave’s my little brother and I will do whatever it takes. I don’t want him to go through all of this alone again,” Rose said firmly.

“I can go with him if it’s too much trouble for you,” John offered.

Rose’s expression flickered into a look of uncertainty for a moment, but her face became impassive again almost immediately. However, John had been friends with her long enough to know when she was keeping thoughts to herself.

“What?” he asked, a little annoyed. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen Dave get emotional before; he’d be able to take care of Dave.

“Nothing, it’s just... never mind,” Rose said airily, taking an exaggerated drink of her water. John narrowed his eyes.

“...Fine,” she sighed. “I just think that your presence might make Terezi feel a little bit... threatened.”

“I’m not threatening!” John said indignantly.

“I know you’re not. And Dave knows you’re not. But look at it from Terezi’s perspective. I have no doubt in my mind that all of the stuff she put Dave through –”

“Like cutting him off from the outside world?” John interrupted angrily.

“—yes, exactly, all that, I am certain that she was doing it to protect her relationship with him.”

“Didn’t work,” John huffed.

“She’s got feelings too, John,” Rose lectured. “I know you don’t want to hear it, because it’s easier to see her as some evil dragon-lady who hurt Dave, but I’m sure she still cares about him and I know this will be hard for her too.”

“Whatever, she doesn’t deserve him,” John said hotly. “If she wanted him so badly maybe she shouldn’t have treated him like shit.”

“I’m not saying what she did was right. She was likely acting out of fear that he would leave her,” Rose reasoned.

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” John countered. “Dave was so in love with her it was ridiculous. He would have done anything for her. And anyway, I don’t see why this means I can’t go with him to Texas.”

Rose sighed. “I’m going to say this plainly to you, because I care about you. Terezi probably isn’t crazy about you. You were the one who inspired him to start the photography studio. In her eyes, you’re the enemy, and you represent everything that tried to take Dave away from her. Does that make sense?”

John nodded mutely.

“If you went to Texas with Dave, it could be seen as a challenge to Terezi. She might get upset and make things more difficult for Dave, which is exactly what you would want to avoid. Because I love you both, I don’t think you should go with Dave.”

John nodded again. He understood everything Rose was saying, even though he didn’t agree at all. It killed him to think that Dave would be so far away and John would be absolutely helpless to do anything if Dave needed him. He was also still livid at Terezi; didn’t she understand that this was _Dave_? Dave was special, Dave was important, Dave was worth so much more than he even knew, and all John wanted was to protect him at all costs.

It was sort of a weird thought, but John didn’t dare say anything to Rose. He knew she was right, in any case.

The tense silence was broken by the opening of the front door.

“Dude, why’s my sister’s car in front of the house?” Dave called, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he bustled inside.

“Hello, Dave,” Rose said, smiling pointedly.

Dave’s mouth fell into a straight line as his eyes darted from Rose’s catlike stillness, to John’s nervous face, to the pile of papers on the kitchen table. He frowned slightly and flicked his shades back down over his eyes. John winced internally; Dave had been wearing the shades around the house less and less, finally comfortable enough around John to display his crimson irises. Now, they sat in their usual defensive position on Dave’s freckled nose.

“What’s going on? Study party?” Dave asked, his lopsided smile betrayed by a slightly shaky voice.

“There’s not really a good way to say this,” Rose began.

“Should I be sitting down?” Dave asked. “Egbert, go get me a cold towel and smelling salts in case I feel faint.”

John gave a tight-lipped smile. Dave’s nervous jokes were doing nothing to assuage the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

“Your, um... your divorce papers came in the mail a while ago,” Rose said, staring directly at the table in front of her. “Terezi must have had them served to my address.”

Dave’s face went stony. John was hit with a nasty reminder of the way Dave looked when he’d first arrived in Washington, back when John only really knew him as Rose’s photographer brother. Months of wearing down Dave’s barriers suddenly seemed meaningless, because here they were again in full force.

Dave finally spoke.

“Oh.”

John’s heart broke all over again.

“We... we went through all the papers,” Rose said, still staring fixedly at her tightly interlaced fingers on the table. “You’re wanted back in Texas as soon as possible, for... for mediation in splitting up your estate.”

Dave didn’t say anything. He collapsed into a chair between Rose and John and pulled the nearest stack of paper towards him.

Neither John nor Rose moved. John fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, unable to bring himself to look up. The silence in the room was painful and palpable as Dave read through every document on the table. John felt dizzy, like the air in the room was being siphoned out and he was slowly suffocating. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

When Dave spoke again, his voice sounded strained and weirdly muddled.

“The hearing is in three weeks.”

Rose nodded imperceptibly.

“Better cancel my next photoshoots,” Dave muttered, standing up and almost staggering towards John’s bedroom, the door slamming behind him.

John bit his lip.

“Well, that went about as well as expected,” Rose said, finally breaking the awful silence. She gathered the papers up and slid them neatly back into the envelope. “I’m going to leave this here, okay?” She placed the envelope on the kitchen counter.

“I hate this,” John scowled. “It’s not fair that he has to go through this. And it’s not fair that we can’t do anything.”

“We can be there for him and support him,” Rose corrected gently, laying a hand on John’s shoulder. “I have to go, I promised Kanaya I’d be home in time to help her make dinner.”

“Yeah, go be domestic. I will take care of Dave,” John assured her, standing and pulling her into a hug.

Rose buried her head into John’s chest and exhaled slowly. “Yes, I know you will. He’s lucky to have you,” she said. The thought made John smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dave. I wanna hug him. :(
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone for being so patient with me and my crazy schedule. I promise I'll update more frequently now that my semester is over!


	26. Checkmate

As soon as Rose left, John made a beeline for his bedroom. He rapped harshly on the door.

“Dave, can I come in?” he asked, waiting a few moments before turning the knob anyway. To his relief, it hadn’t been locked. However, the door of his personal bathroom was closed. John sighed before opening that too, finding Dave on his knees in front of the toilet and clutching the porcelain, shaking violently. His shades were sliding down on his nose, and John hurried to remove them from Dave’s face before they fell into the water, which was vomit-free for now. Still, Dave didn’t look too good.

John folded Dave’s shades and placed them on the bathroom counter before perching himself on the edge of the bathtub.

“...Shit, man, I don’t need you to hold my hair back or anything,” Dave mumbled, keeping his head fixed over the toilet, refusing to look at John.

“Can I get you anything?” John asked. He wanted to rub Dave’s back or something, but he wasn’t sure how well the gesture would be received. Dave responded by breathing sharply through his nose and shaking his head slowly.

John sat on the tub, playing with his fingers anxiously. He had no idea how much time passed before Dave’s shivers subsided. Finally, the blond man sat back on his heels.

“I think I’m good now. But I ain’t felt that sick in years,” he commented to no one in particular. John helped him stand up, and the two of them slowly made their way into the bedroom. Dave sat on the edge of the bed and slumped forward, supporting his head in his hands. John sank down next to him. He’d learned at this point that it was no use pressing Dave to talk about his feelings, because more often than not Dave would be forthcoming with information once he was ready. So John said nothing and did nothing, apart from nudging Dave’s knee softly with his own.

Sure enough, Dave finally spoke.

“’S just a lot to take in,” he sighed. “She’s really doin’ it. I dunno what I expected. She’s always done what she says she’s gonna.”

John knew better than to interrupt; Dave’s tendency to monologue seemed to help him cope.

“I guess I kinda thought she would let me know before she did it, y’know? Give me some preparation or somethin’. I haven’t talked to her since...” he stopped himself and cleared his throat, “since the night I left. I just sorta assumed she’d at least call me. But I guess I don’t even get that much from her.”

John gritted his teeth. _She should have called you_ , he thought angrily. _She should have begged you to come home. She should have apologized to you and assured you that you are valued and talented and worth the world._

“Anyway, I guess I gotta come to terms with that fact that she’s gone. I’ve kinda been puttin’ off thinking about it, distractin’ myself with photoshoots and stuff, but I can’t hide from this anymore. I’m sick of running from her.” Dave finally raised his eyes from the floor, looking sideways up at John. There was a sort of determined resignation in his expression, and John felt a sensation of pride well up in his chest.

“You’re gonna get through this,” John said encouragingly, placing a hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Are you okay to go look at those papers?”

Dave nodded, his expression hardening slightly, but he stood and led the way into the kitchen.

~

Later that evening, John’s phone buzzed loudly on the living room table. He glanced at the caller ID.

“It’s Rose,” he announced to Dave, who was only a few moves away from a spectacular checkmate and was staring at his pieces intently, trying to figure out the best way to ensnare John’s already-doomed king. He made a waving gesture with his hand, which John took as the okay to pick up the phone.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“How’s Dave?” Rose asked, wasting no time with cordialities.

“He’s about to kick my ass in chess,” John responded, to which Dave added, “Hell yeah.”

Rose chuckled. “Did you go through the papers with him?”

“Yeah, I did,” John said. “He was okay with all of her terms.”

John watched Dave’s smile fade slightly, but there was no other reaction.

“That’ll make things easier, at least,” Rose said. “I’ve looked at plane tickets, and the best option would be for me and Dave to leave on Friday.”

“The day after tomorrow? Wow, Rose, give a guy some time to get used to the idea first,” John said, surprised.

“His court date is in two weeks and he’s going to need to be as prepared as possible,” Rose retorted.

“I guess you’re right,” John conceded with a sigh. “Why didn’t you just call Dave and tell him?”

“I did, twice, but he didn’t pick up,” Rose said, and John could hear the grimace in her voice. “I thought he was ignoring me, so I called you. Turns out you were just distracting him.”

“I’m a bad influence like that,” John laughed. Come to think of it, he had heard Dave’s phone vibrate a few times, but they’d both been pretty caught up in arguing over whether or not John was moving his queen around too recklessly. Dave’s remaining bishop had captured her not even two moves later, and much gloating had ensued. John had always considered himself to be pretty good at chess, but Dave was proving to be even better.

“Anyway, will you tell him to call me and confirm that?” Rose asked.

“Yeah, sure thing,” John agreed.

“Okay, thanks. Have fun with your game,” Rose grinned before hanging up.

“What did she want?” Dave asked, sliding his rook forward three spaces. “Check.”

“She called you like twice but you didn’t pick up so she got worried and called me,” John responded airily, examining his dwindling options. He moved his king a spot to the left.

“I suppose I don’t blame her,” Dave mused. “I’m guessing she wants to go with me to visit Terezi?” He moved his queen diagonally, blocking off one of John’s potential moves.

“Yeah. It’s probably a good idea to let her do that, though. She knows about this sort of stuff. And she loves you. You’ll be in good hands,” John said. It made him unhappy, but he was mindful of Rose’s advice to stay in Washington. He moved his king backwards a space. Maybe he could lure Dave’s queen into the path of one of his pawns.

“I know. But she also really doesn’t like Terezi and I do _not_ want to deal with any of the shenanigans that might occur between them. I mean, I’m all about ladies fightin’ over me, but not like this,” Dave joked feebly, though there was a ring of truth to his statement. He moved a knight into position. “Check.”

“Dammit,” John commented. “Rose can probably behave herself, though. She’s a professional lady.” He moved his king sideways out of the knight’s reach.

“Not sure Terezi can, thought. She’s a lawyer, she argues for a living,” Dave countered, moving his rook to the row behind John’s king to eliminate any backwards movement. John scowled at him.

“She has to be on her best behavior if she’s going to be representing herself in court,” John reasoned, moving one of his pawns forward.

“Yeah, but she can be as nasty as she likes outside of work. I’ve seen that shit firsthand,” Dave said sourly, moving his other rook to block any forward movement to John’s king.

John didn’t respond to Dave’s comment other than to emit a sort of growled sigh, moving his king sideways once more.

Dave moved his final bishop. “Checkmate,” he announced, although the victory was not as sweet as it would have been had they not been talking about Dave’s looming divorce hearing. John stared at the board angrily. It made sense that Dave was good at chess. It was a strategy game, and when your entire quality of life depended on whether or not you made the right move, you learned to develop strategic thinking.

“Come to Houston with me,” Dave said unexpectedly. John’s eyes snapped upwards. Dave looked at him intently, his shades on the crest of his forehead and pulling his bangs away from his face, red irises exposed and glittering in the lamplight of the living room. He leaned forward, fingers interlaced in a silent plea.

John was crushed. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly. He thought about what Rose had said. _You represent everything that tried to take Dave away from her_.

Dave sensed his hesitation. “Please,” he implored. “I know Rose’ll be there, but it won’t be the same. I dunno why, but it won’t. I got no idea how any of this nightmare is gonna go down, but if you’re there... I guess I’ll just know for sure that everythin’s gonna be okay.” His eyes dropped.

John got up and joined Dave on the couch, matching his posture and finding himself unable to make eye contact.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking in a terrible unmasculine way.

“Why not?” Dave demanded.

_Because your sister said I couldn’t_ , John thought snarkily. “Because Terezi probably hates me and I don’t want to cause any problems,” he answered half-truthfully.

“I don’t care what Terezi thinks!” Dave ejected. John’s eyes lifted from his own hands to meet Dave’s; Dave looked almost surprised about what had just come out of his own mouth. He composed himself quickly. “She can’t hurt me anymore. I won’t let her.”

“And you shouldn’t,” John responded. “But I don’t want to make this harder than it has to be.”

“You won’t,” Dave insisted. “You don’t have to see Terezi at all. Not like she can see you anyway.”

John chuckled weakly. “Still, though. What would I do in Houston while you’re meeting with her?”

“I’m sure you’d find something!” Dave said confidently. “I mean, it’ll be hot as balls because it’s always hot as balls, but still.”

“We don’t even know how long the court process is going to take,” John said, knowing his excuses were getting worse and really wishing he didn’t have to give them at all. “I can’t take that much time off work.”

“I guess so,” Dave said unhappily. “But you bet your ass I’m gonna call you. Like all the time. Probably in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping. And leave really long rambling voicemail messages.”

“I look forward to them,” John grinned. “Even if you wake me up at ungodly hours.”

Dave smiled, his eyes dropping to his interwoven fingers. “I don’t think I tell you often enough how much it means to me that... that you’ve been here all this time,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone like you in my life.”

John’s lip wobbled. _Don’t cry, man, what the hell!_ He chastised himself. “All I want is for you to be safe and happy,” he murmured, almost imperceptibly. It was hard to believe that Dave had only been in Washington for a few months; it felt to John like they’d known each other for forever. Dave was a part of his life that he’d never even realized was missing until he had it, and the idea of losing him was unbearable. He wished he had the words to adequately explain this to Dave, and it frustrated him that he wasn’t able to express his thoughts.

They sat on the couch for a while, neither daring to speak, until John finally broke the silence. “We’d better clean this up,” he sighed, gesturing to the chessboard. Dave nodded his agreement, and they carefully placed all the wooden pieces back in the box. Dave pulled the sofa bed out, and John retreated to his own room to mull over the events of the day.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he was really going to miss having Dave around the house. Rose had said herself that they had no idea how long the court proceedings would last, especially if it ended up going to trial. And he hated the nagging fear in the pit of his stomach, the fear that Dave would see Terezi again and that they’d work out their differences and Dave would decide to stay in Houston forever and leave John in Seattle.

John didn’t sleep well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at chess.  
> I'm also really bad at frequent updates I'M SO SORRY. I promise I'm still keeping up with this story! Here's my [tumblr](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) just in case it takes me a while to update again so y'all can badger me and remind me to keep writing!!   
> Thank you all so much for continuing to read this, it's why I keep writing it. <3


	27. This Ain't Goodbye

The jarring sound of his alarm wrenched John awake. He blinked sleepily at the clock next to his bed. It read 4:00 in the morning in unforgiving red LED numbers. John groaned audibly as he pulled himself away from the warm comfort of his pillow. He rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand and wandered blindly toward his bathroom door. It was closed, which was weird, but John was half-asleep and had no qualms about turning the knob and pushing the door open.

He was greeted with a surprised yelp that made his eyes fly open. Dave stood in front of the mirror, towel slung around his hips and fingers in his hair, clearly just out of the shower. Usually their sleep schedules were different enough that sharing the shower wasn’t a problem, but it hadn’t occurred to John that they’d both need to take one this morning.

“Sorry!” John squeaked, stepping back into his bedroom quickly and closing the door. He could hear Dave laughing through the wood.

“No worries, man, it’s cool,” Dave reassured him. “I’m basically done in here anyway.”

He opened the door and sidled past John, who simply stood there, still half asleep and feeling oddly embarrassed. Dave left John’s bedroom to go for his own clothes in the living room, and John shook his head and yanked off his t-shirt. He turned on the water in the shower to let it run hot before stripping all the way down.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen Dave shirtless before. They’d been living in the same house for four months, it was to be expected. But usually it was brief, like if Dave had to change shirts or put his clothes in the laundry or something, and usually he was at least wearing sweatpants too. And he certainly wasn’t usually posturing in front of a mirror with beads of water adorning his pale skin and running his fingers through his hair. John felt himself blushing and realized that he was half-hard.

John stepped into the shower and let the steaming water stream down his shoulders, desperately trying to ignore the pulsing in his groin. He shouldn’t feel weird. He’d been turned on by a lot less. And besides, this was a completely inappropriate time to be thinking this, anyway. They were supposed to meet Rose at Sea-Tac at 5:30, since she and Dave would be flying out to Houston this morning. He would have to think about the implications of his confused boner later.

Of course, it didn’t stop John from dealing with said boner, and he stepped out of the shower feeling much more awake and relaxed. The feeling didn’t last long, though; John’s stomach twisted into knots as he remembered what the task of the day was: saying goodbye to Dave for an indeterminable amount of time.

He pulled on a soft grey shirt and jeans before plodding into the kitchen. To his slight surprise, Dave was scrambling eggs. A pile of chopped onions and red peppers sat on a cutting board next to the stove. John smiled wanly; it had been a while since Dave had made breakfast for the two of them. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, stifling a yawn.

After a few minutes, Dave joined him, a plate in each hand. John took one of them, murmuring his thanks as he inhaled the scent of breakfast. The pile of eggs was fluffy and dotted with peppers. John ate slowly, savoring each bite. It was safe to say that he was going to have to revert to toast and cereal in Dave’s absence.

They ate in silence, partly due to the early hour and partly due to the fact that John didn’t know the proper words that would erase the anxious look on Dave’s face. The blond man kept his eyes lowered to his plate, chewing each bite methodically. John’s heart hurt. Once both plates were empty, he loaded them into the dishwasher while Dave retreated to the living room to fetch his suitcase.

“Ready to go?” John asked with a weak smile. Dave shrugged and lightly touched the side of his shades, his mouth set. John pulled on a jacket and they left the house quietly.

The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, dyeing the sky in light pinks and oranges. John heard Dave sigh contentedly. “I love being awake at daybreak,” he commented. “Gettin’ up is a bitch, but the lighting is always nice at this time.” John smiled and nudged Dave’s shoulder gently with his own. They climbed into John’s rarely-used sedan and took off.

Their exchanges during the drive were small and trivial in a way that comforted John. The sun rose steadily, filtered by the gossamer-thin clouds that had begun to gather. October in Seattle was brisk and bright, and the soft acoustic guitar melodies that drifted from the radio speakers had a relaxing effect on the pair of them.

They arrived at the airport a few minutes later than planned, and were just pulling into a parking spot when Dave’s phone started to ring. He answered it while making a face.

“Yeah, we just got here,” he responded, presumably to Rose. “We’ll be inside in less time than it takes you to do your hair in the morning.” With that, he hung up and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. John snickered.

They made their way into the terminal, where they found Rose waiting for them, arms crossed.

“I was afraid you’d slept in,” she prodded, leaning in to kiss John’s cheek.

“Where’s my kiss?” Dave asked, clutching his chest in mock hurt.

“Gross,” Rose laughed, making a face.

“Is Kanaya going to be okay without you for a while?” John asked. To his surprise, Rose’s face fell slightly.

“She’ll be okay,” Rose sighed. “We’ve been apart before. I just usually know how long the separation will last.”

John patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, maybe I’ll grab coffee with her instead of you. I don’t think I’ve ever actually met her.”

Rose smiled up at him. “I think she’d like that.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “And you were afraid that _I_ was going to make us late.”

Rose glanced at one of the airport clocks. “We’d better get through security. Ready?” she asked, looking to Dave.

“Yeah, just gimme a moment, I’ll be right there,” Dave said. Rose gave an indiscernible look, the kind of look that made John feel as though his very soul were being surveyed.

“Very well,” she decided. “I’ll see you soon, John! We’ll be in touch!” With that, she turned and left for the security check.

Dave turned back to John. The tension in the air was palpable, and John felt his mind go curiously blank. All of the things he wanted to say to Dave seemed to vanish, and he was left staring dumbly.

“It’ll only be for a few weeks,” Dave said, examining his fingers nervously. “Are you gonna be okay? Y’know, on your own?”

“Yeah,” John answered, forcing a smile. He’d been on his own before now and he could do it again, but that didn’t stop the ugly empty feeling from creeping into his chest. “And if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk or something, you have my number and my pesterchum and everything.”

“Heh, yeah, I do,” Dave chuckled humorlessly. Slowly, he raised his head and flicked up his sunglasses. John’s breath caught in his throat, and he only had a few moments to appreciate Dave’s crimson gaze before the slightly taller man swept him into a hug.

“Thanks for... y’know, all of this,” Dave said, loud enough only for John to hear. “I’m gonna miss you, man.”

“I’ll miss you too,” John breathed back, and as soon as the embrace began, it was over, and John was watching Dave walk away, dragging his suitcase behind him. At the security terminal, Dave turned to face him again, gave a small wave, and disappeared through the full-body scanner. John watched him go until he was out of sight.

Now what?

The drive home was a nearly surreal experience. It was still too early to be awake, and John didn’t have to go into work anyway. He had a fairly free day, and nothing to do with it. He supposed he could go back to sleep, but he didn’t want to feel like he was wasting the day. John was so lost in his thoughts that he was barely conscious of unlocking his front door and immediately leaning against the doorway to the living room that, for the past few months, had served as Dave’s bed.

A small two-drawer dresser, which they’d bought together once it was determined that Dave would be staying for a while and would need somewhere to keep his clothes, sat innocently in the corner. Without thinking, John crossed the room to rummage through the drawer until he drew out a soft, dark red sweatshirt. He pulled it on, not caring that the sleeves were a little too long. It smelled like Dave and John smiled. He felt silly, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his nose buried in the fabric.

A flash of golden yellow caught his eye. John shifted some of Dave’s shirts aside to reveal a manila envelope at the bottom of the drawer. He unearthed the envelope and examined it.  
  
 _For John_ was scrawled across the seal of the envelope, handwriting identical to the script that John had recognized from the captions on the backs of the pictures in the photo album of Terezi. Dave’s handwriting.

John was torn. On one hand, he desperately wanted to know what was inside the envelope. However, he deeply respected Dave’s privacy, and the last thing he wanted to do was to break Dave’s trust. He slid the envelope back beneath Dave’s folded shirts and shut the drawer.

The silence of the house was deafening; John looked around, desperate for something to do. Finally, he decided to microwave a bag of popcorn and turn on the television. He flipped through channels listlessly as the clock dragged from eight in the morning until nine thirty, when he finally happened upon a television showing of _Starsky and Hutch_. Dave had once called it a cinematic masterpiece, and while John had disagreed at the time, he couldn’t bring himself to change the channel.

John became vaguely aware of his phone buzzing. He didn’t recognize the number, but the area code wasn’t from Washington. He furrowed his brow and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this John Egbert?” asked a soft female voice in a faint Israeli accent.

“Speaking,” John responded.

“Yes, my name is Kanaya Maryam, I believe you know my girlfriend, Rose?”

John sat up straighter. “Oh yeah!”

“She gave me your phone number and asked me to, ah, keep an eye on you,” Kanaya said. John detected an almost Rose-like hint of knowingness in her tone.

“That’s very motherly of her,” John laughed. “But I can dig it. I don’t think we’ve ever met, although I’ve heard a lot.”

“As have I,” Kanaya laughed. “Shall I take Rose’s place for coffee tomorrow?”

“It would be a delight,” John smiled. “Does nine work for you?”

“I believe I can fit it in,” Kanaya answered. “Are you okay for now? Rose said you might be feeling rather down.”

John sighed. He really did appreciate Rose. “I’m good, but thank you for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Kanaya said. “If you need anything, you have my phone number. Have a lovely day, and just remember that Dave is going to be okay.”

The words were oddly comforting. John bade her goodbye and hung up the phone. At least now he had something to look forward to.

The rest of the day passed slowly until finally, John’s phone rang again in the middle of the afternoon, rousing him from an impromptu nap in front of the television. He answered blearily.

“Mmmhello?”

“Dude, fear not, we’ve landed safe and in one piece. No Flight 815 shenanigans for us!” came Dave’s voice. John felt awake immediately.

“Nice reference,” he said as he felt himself grin. “How’s Texas?”

“Ugh, eighty degrees in October is just _wrong_ ,” Dave grumbled. “Rose says hi, by the way.”

“Tell her hey,” John said.

“Ugh, you’re not gonna believe what just happened. We’re at our hotel, right, and we’re checkin’ in, and the lady at the front desk was all, _I see y’all have a reservation for a David Strider an’ a Rose Lalonde_ , and we just kinda nodded, an’ she looked at us funny, and so I said...” Dave launched into one of his spiels, but John was mesmerized by the slight twang that had reintroduced itself into his voice, and it hit him immediately how much he missed Dave already.

“...imagine your sister bein’ mistaken for your wife. Freakin’ Texas, man,” Dave finished his story as John zoned back in.

“That’s awful,” he laughed. “I’m glad to hear you’re having such a great time.”

“Anyway, I’d love to chat for a while, but Rose wants to go get food, so I’m gonna call you later,” Dave said.

“You better,” John challenged jokingly, and the line went dead. Maybe he’d ask Dave about the envelope. However, something told him to keep that particular line of questioning to himself.

In the silence after Dave’s phone call, it struck John just how integral a part of his life Dave had become, and he came to the scary realization that he had no idea what he was going to do with himself in the weeks that would follow. Rather than thinking about that, John decided he would do well just to return to his nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more shippy Johndave stuff in this chapter than I think there has been in the entire fic so far. Given that I'm Johndave trash, I can't believe it's taken this long.  
> Anyway, have an update! Thanks to everyone who still keeps up with this story, you guys all rock. <3  
> (Also yay for LOST references, and also for Israeli humanstuck Kanaya)


	28. Shalom

John awoke to the pattering of rain on his window. Figures, he thought to himself, grimacing as he sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep forcefully from his eyes. He didn’t particularly want to get out of bed, but he’d promised to meet Kanaya for coffee, and frankly he hadn’t slept well. It was a combination of having napped for most of the previous day and also having spent most of the previous night lying awake, staring glassily at the ceiling and feeling incomplete for reasons he couldn’t identify.

It was a sweater day, John decided, pulling Dave’s dark red one over his head. He grabbed his car keys and pulled up his hood as he stepped out into the drizzle. The soft grey clouds stretched over the sky as far as John could see, and he shrugged the sweatshirt tighter to himself. He wondered how the weather was in Texas. It was probably ten or eleven there. Dave probably wasn’t even awake yet.

The drive to downtown Seattle was uneventful, but John was glad he’d decided to drive rather than take public transport. He wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to handle Karkat’s borderline verbal abuse this morning. John parked his car, fed the meter, and hurried through the dreary rain towards the Starbucks.

The unmistakable scent of espresso and pumpkin spice hit John’s nostrils as he stepped out of the cold and into the coffeeshop. He dug his wallet out of his pocket and bought his usual hot chocolate. During his wait, his eyes scanned the tables around the establishment, looking for someone that might by Kanaya.

The barista called his order just as he spotted a young-looking woman sitting by herself at a table in the corner, sipping carefully from a cup and reading a book in a language that looked like Hebrew. John noticed a thin golden Star of David hanging on a chain around her neck. He grabbed his drink and strolled over to the table.

“Excuse me, are you Kanaya?” he asked gently, trying not to startle her from her book. She looked up at him and her face broke into a smile, deep brown eyes sparkling warmly.

“John, yes?” she asked. He nodded and sat down across from her. She extended a delicate hand. “ _Shalom._ It is such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” he agreed. Although she was a few years younger than both him and Rose, Kanaya had a sort of mothering warmness to her that made John feel incredibly comfortable. She was sort of like Rose in that way. John smiled to himself. “How has your morning been?” he asked.

“It has been pensive,” Kanaya answered, taking a thoughtful sip from her coffee. John smelled spice and honey wafting from her drink. “I have had much on my mind. And yourself?”

“I just woke up,” John admitted, testing to see if his hot chocolate was cool enough to drink yet. It burned his lips a little.

“You do not look particularly well-rested,” Kanaya said bluntly. “Are you troubled?”

“It’s been a weird few days,” John answered, not quite sure how to respond.

“If you are worried about Rose and Dave, that is understandable. But I know that they will be fine,” Kanaya said confidently, reaching across the table to put a reassuring hand on John’s arm. The gesture was kind and unassuming, and John could have sworn he felt a little bit of tension leaving his body.

“Thank you,” he said softly, smiling up at her. “So what’s been on your mind?”

Kanaya pursed her lips and drew a hand up to subconsciously fiddle with the six-pointed star dangling from her necklace. “This is actually one of the reasons that I had wanted to meet you soon,” she said. “Can you keep a secret?”  
  
John sat up a little straighter and nodded eagerly.

Kanaya took a deep breath. “I want to ask Rose to marry me.”

John felt his face break into a wide grin, but Kanaya continued before he could say anything. He noticed that she got rather breathy and flustered, and her fairly evenly-paced talking seemed to speed up.

“It would not be right away, I need to get my degree first and I am sure that Rose has other things on her mind besides planning a wedding, and I would like to be in a position where I would not have to leave her as frequently as I do, and I have been trying to find the right time to ask her but there is never a good opportunity, and I had been going to ask her this weekend but then she went to Texas with Dave, and I-”

John laughed and gently cut her off. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure that Rose will say yes. Any time is a good time to ask her.”

Kanaya huffed lightly. “I want to make it special.”

“Getting to spend the rest of her life with you is already special,” John said honestly, although it felt a little cheesy. “I’m so happy for both of you!”

“She hasn’t said yes yet,” Kanaya said dubiously.

“There is no doubt in my mind that she’ll be sliding that ring onto her finger before you’re even done asking the question,” John grinned.

“I designed the ring myself,” Kanaya admitted, almost shyly. “In my jewelry course at university. My professor used it as an example.” She seemed incredibly pleased with herself.

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” John affirmed. “So do you think you’re going to ask her when she and Dave get back?”

“I think so, yes,” Kanaya said. “I just wish I knew when she was going to be back. I hope she returns in time for her birthday. It would be nice to see her then.”

“It shouldn’t take that long, they should be home before we know it,” John reassured her, trying hard not to sound like he was convincing himself as well.

~

The call came while John was shoveling spaghetti into his mouth, watching _House_ reruns on the couch and wrapped in one of Dave’s blankets. He muted the television and answered.

“Hello?”

“John? Thank god,” came Dave’s voice. He sounded exhausted.

“Hey, are you okay?” John asked, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah, I’m just – _sorry, Rose, I’m on the phone –_ I’m just real sick ‘a Texas and I wanna come home,” Dave said. John felt a small flurry in his stomach at the last word.

“What happened?” John asked.

“Fuckin’ everything,” Dave sighed. “I’m sharin’ a hotel room with my sister for god knows how long, I gotta meet with a mediating attorney on Monday, and it’s still hotter ‘n hell right now, which slipped my damn mind when I was packin’ and now I only have like three pairs ‘a shorts. I miss Washington.”

“Washington misses you,” John responded, reddening a little. _It’s not the only thing_ , he thought. “You haven’t even been there for twenty-four hours, dude. How are you this frustrated already?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” Dave said hotly. “But I’m about to explode. How’s Seattle?”

“Same old, same old,” John said lightly. “Had coffee with Kanaya this morning. She’s really awesome, Rose knows how to pick ‘em.” He debated internally about whether or not to tell Dave about Kanaya’s proposal plans, but he decided against it; better let Rose be the next person to find out.

“Yeah, she’s real good for Rose. I like ‘em together a lot,” Dave said, and John could hear his voice soften slightly. “Other than that, whatcha been up to?”

“Watching TV, mostly, and realizing that I literally don’t have a life,” John said, half-joking. “I guess I can finally get working on that huge shipment that I have to place.”

“Ah, the life of a business owner. Can’t say I envy you at all,” Dave laughed. They fell into a comfortable silence. John could hear Dave’s breath over the phone, and he felt more at ease in that moment than he had since the morning Dave had left.

“I miss you,” he said before realizing that the words had left his mouth. Blood rushed to his face, making his cheeks hot.

“...Yeah,” Dave agreed, to John’s surprise. “Yeah. I miss you too, man.”

John exhaled, his heart still beating a little faster. “Haha, feelings are for losers,” he joked into the phone.

“Guess that makes you the biggest loser of all,” Dave responded in kind. “Y’know, Egbert, they got a TV show for that.”

“Shut up,” John laughed. At that moment, he could hear Rose in the background.

“ _Dave, it’s like one in the morning, go to bed_.”

“You’re not my _real_ mom,” Dave’s voice scoffed. “I gotta go, big sis wants her beauty sleep.”

“It was nice hearing from you,” John said honestly. “Keep your head up.”

“Yeah, will do. Night,” Dave said affectionately before hanging up.

John let out a long sigh, unmuted the television, and proceeded to not pay attention to it.

~

Monday was a rough day for John. He’d gotten a text earlier in the day from Dave – Well, off to go be mediated. Wish me luck.  
– and it had been hard to focus on pretty much everything. He had elected to go into Prankster’s Gambit; life had been hectic lately, and John would be lying if he said there wasn’t something immediately comforting about being inside the familiar little shop. He’d given Equius a much-deserved day off, and being behind the register again brought back waves of welcome nostalgia.

Later in the afternoon, the little bell over the door _ding_ ed and John’s eyes shot up to greet the visitor. His face broke into a grin.

“Janey, what are you doing here? Don’t you have school?”

“Long weekend,” Jane smiled broadly, bounding over to the register. “How’s it goin’, Mr. Shopowner?”

John clambered over the counter in a very unbusinesslike manner to scoop his cousin into a hug. “I’ve had better days. What about you, why’d you decide to come visit me on your day off?”

“I wanted to introduce you to someone!” Jane said brightly. Her eyes flicked to the door, where another figure stood. John hadn’t even seen her come in. She was a little taller than Jane, with cropped white-blonde hair and dressed very fashionably in green and gray.

“Don’t be shy, Callie!” Jane said encouragingly. “John won’t bite, he’s pretty tame. John, this is my best friend Calliope.”

Calliope approached shyly. John extended a hand. “It’s good to meet you,” he said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she responded, and John was surprised at her English accent.

“She’s going back to Bristol after this year, so I wanted to introduce her to as many people over here as possible,” Jane explained. “Maybe I can convince her to stay!”

John turned to Calliope. “Don’t you let her boss you around, now,” he advised jokingly. Calliope giggled and Jane slugged his arm lovingly.

John felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He slid it out just enough to see Dave’s name on his caller ID.

“I’ve gotta grab this. Behave yourselves, will ya?” John asked. The two girls nodded and John retreated to the back room to take Dave’s call.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“John, you gotta get me out of here, I can’t do this anymore,” Dave’s voice came dangerously low, and John sat up straighter in alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s so cold, man. Bein’ in that room is like the fuckin’ arctic. Shit’s terrifying. I don’t wanna do this, I don’t wanna deal with this, it’s like it ain’t even _her_ anymore,” Dave rambled. John bit his lips. It occurred to him that Dave’s stint in Washington was probably the longest that Dave had been apart from Terezi since she’d started holing him in.

“Dave, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said as soothingly as he could muster. “Is the actual mediation going okay?”

“Yeah, ‘sfine, although Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass Attorney is directin’ most of his questions to Rose anyway. Seems like she’s finally good for somethin’. She’s not you, though.”

“It’ll all be figured out soon,” John assured him. “And in no time you’ll be getting on a plane back here again. I promise.”

“I’m just sick of watchin’ her like this. It’s like she doesn’t care about anything anymore. She sure as hell doesn’t care about me.” John could hear the sadness in Dave’s voice and it made him so irrationally angry.

“You can get through this, man. I know you can,” he said, trying to make his voice sound encouraging as opposed to irate.

“I gotta get back to my meeting, though. I kinda, uh, just stormed out. They’re prob’ly lookin’ for me,” Dave admitted. “Thanks for talkin’. I’ll call you later.”

“I’ll be waiting,” John promised. The line went dead. John stared at his phone for a while before Jane’s voice called him back to reality.

“Hey, John?” She asked, head poking through the doorway.

“Mmmm,” John responded.

“Callie and I are gonna go now – hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, why?” John asked distractedly.

Jane made a face. “You’re... uh, you’re kinda shaking. You look a little sick. You sure you’re okay?”

John realized that she was completely right. “What? Oh. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Is this about Dave?” Jane asked knowingly. John just looked at her sadly. She entered the room and placed a soft hand onto his shoulder.

“Dave’s gonna be okay, and so are you,” she said confidently.

“Thanks, Janey,” John said, looking warmly up at her. “Tell Callie it was nice to meet her. Oh, and tell Jade and Jake I say hi.”

“Will do!” Jane said, beaming as she left. John watched her go. Jane didn’t know much about the situation with Dave, but somehow her words made him feel a little better.

John ended up closing the shop early and going home to wait for Dave’s call. He felt better knowing that he’d be fully available to talk as soon as Dave needed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but I am super in love with Israeli Kanaya. And so is Rose.  
> Again, thanks for your patience with the updates, everyone <3  
> And feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) if you want!


	29. On The Road To Healing

Dave had been gone for a week, and John was finding it harder and harder to ignore that damn manila envelope sitting innocuously in Dave’s drawer.

He obviously knew that it was wrong to sneak through Dave’s stuff. If it was anything super important, Dave would have brought it with him to Texas. And yet, he’d kept it hidden from John. How long had Dave had it, anyway? Had he brought it with him when he first moved in with John? If not, when did he acquire it? The questions were endless.

He was beginning to wear a path in the living room carpet from the sheer amount he spent pacing, toying with the corners of the envelope, tracing _For John_ on the seal beneath his fingers, and then deciding finally to shut it back in Dave’s drawer beneath the red sweatshirt. Whatever was inside was larger than a sheet of printer paper, but as thin as it felt, it was firmer, like cardstock. He began to think it might be a set of photographs, but that didn’t seem right; Dave did most of his photo editing on his computer, and he rarely ordered prints of any of his work.

In any case, the unanswered mystery of the manila envelope had remained low-key at the back of John’s mind throughout Dave’s week-long absence. He still called near-daily, usually to complain about Rose and about how damn hot Texas was, and sometimes when he could steal a moment away from his sister he would allow himself to open up about Terezi. John could tell that he was struggling; Dave hadn’t seen her since the first mediation appointment, but seeing her again had dredged up a whole host of unpleasant emotions that John had hoped to be rid of. Dave held a lot of anger inside, and much of it remained so deeply hidden that John still wasn’t accustomed to hearing him sound so furious.

One such phone call came while John was eating lunch (boxed macaroni and cheese – John missed Dave’s cooking). He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and processed cheese and answered.

“Hey.”

“John?”

“The Queen of England.”

“Funny,” Dave deadpanned. “Listen, John, I think I fucked up.”

John’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his stomach drop. “What do you mean?”

“She… uh, she called me. Terezi, I mean,” Dave said, coughing slightly.

John felt his eyebrows knit. “How did she have your number?”

“I mean, I never changed it,” Dave said distractedly.

“Isn’t she, like, not allowed to do that?” John asked, now more than a little concerned.

“No, there’s nothing in our agreement that says we can’t be in contact. Anyway, uh… she asked me to dinner tonight. Uh… Just me. No Rose.” Dave sounded incredibly nervous.

“What did you say?” John said, more sharply than he’d meant to.

“…I told her sure,” Dave admitted sheepishly.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” John asked. “I mean, if you think you can do it then go for it, but still…”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what Rose said too when I told her. She said she might follow me just in case shit hits the fan, y’know?” Dave said.

“That’s nice of her,” John said dryly. “Seriously, though, do you wanna do this?”

Dave took a deep breath. “I think I need to, if that makes any sense,” he explained. “I haven’t talked to her in, what, five months? ‘S the longest I’ve gone without talkin’ to her in years. An’ I figure she’s got some explainin’ to do. She’s still my wife.”

The thought made John weirdly queasy.

“Anyway, I feel like she owes me that much, at least. I deserve to know what the hell happened between us,” Dave said. He sounded as though he was trying to be firm, but John heard his voice tremble.

“If you think it’s the right thing, then I am one hundred percent behind you,” John said finally.

“I’m scared to death,” Dave said quietly, after a few moments. “But I think I need the closure. My court date’s in a few weeks. An’ hopefully then I can wrap all my shit up and be home before December.”

John smiled. “I look forward to it,” he said honestly.

“Me too,” Dave said. “Anyway, I gotta get ready for tonight. Gotta look presentable an’ shit.”

“Slay ‘em with beauty,” John laughed. “Good luck, okay? And call me if you need anything?”

“You bet your ass I will,” Dave responded. “Later.”

As soon as Dave hung up, John called Rose.

“He told you about dinner, huh?” she asked upon picking up the call.

“What the hell is he thinking?” John asked.

“I think it’ll be good for him,” Rose said. “He’s pale and a little shaky, but he’s never had to grow a pair before in his life, and ironically, she’s the one that’s making him do it.”

“Little harsh, isn’t that?” John asked.

“Mmmm. Maybe,” Rose said fairly. “Although I’ll bet he also told you that I’m going to tail him. Maybe I’ll just stay at the bar of whatever place they go.”

“Just make sure you’re able to get him home,” John said, a small smile finding his face.

“Of course,” Rose agreed. “How is Seattle?”

“I miss you guys,” John sighed. “Although I met Kanaya, and she’s great.”

“Isn’t she?” Rose said happily, and John couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face.

“She’s going to be my replacement Starbucks Saturday coffee date,” John informed her.

“I’m sure she’s very excited about that,” Rose said. “Speaking of, I forgot that I have to call her. So I will talk to you later, and keep you updated about Dave.”

“Thank you,” John told her before hanging up.

He let out a deep breath. Somehow, he didn’t see Dave’s dinner with Terezi ending well at all. He found himself walking into the living room again to pull the envelope out of the drawer. His fingers traced the metal clasp that kept the flap of the envelope closed. Slowly, carefully, he pried the tiny metal bars away from the paper and opened the envelope.

~

“Dave, stop pacing.”

“Shush, I’m tryin’ to think,” Dave barked, continuing to drag his feet along the musty hotel room carpet. His sister sat cross-legged on the bed, arms folded across her chest, watching him warily. It made him nervous. And frankly, he didn’t need any more reasons to feel nervous than he already currently had.

“You’re going to psych yourself out,” Rose warned.

She was probably right, but Dave kept his mouth set in a straight line and ignored her. The familiar weight of his aviators rested on his nose, for which he was again infinitely grateful. Rose had been trying to convince him to take them off for this dinner to make a good impression, but his response was a curt reminder that Terezi couldn’t see him anyway, and the matter was dropped.

Rose had somehow coaxed him into a button-up and khakis, which was confusing because Dave hadn’t even been aware that he owned khakis, but he guessed that was his fault for leaving so much crap over at Rose’s over the years. And anyway, he was too busy being absolutely sick with nerves to worry too much about his appearance.

Five months was a really long time to not talk to someone when you’d talked to them literally every day since you were fifteen, and Dave was absolutely terrified that he’d run out of things to say to Terezi. He’d had a frightened realization the other day that he’d forgotten what her voice sounded like. Hearing it over the phone this afternoon had scared the shit out of him.

They were going to a small family establishment, one that was close to their old house. Dave remembered it well, and it wasn’t too far of a walk from the hotel. He checked his watch; it read 6:15.

“I’m gonna head out,” Dave said brusquely to Rose. “Follow me if you must, but don’t let ‘Rezi see you.” He paused. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Rose said. Before he could do anything, she stood and crossed the room to pull him into a hug. Rose wasn’t always particularly physically affectionate, but when she was, Dave knew she meant it. He let himself soften slightly in her arms, pulling her into him.

“Good luck,” she murmured into his chest.

“Thanks,” he said softly, pressing a kiss into her hair. After a few moments, he pulled away and left the hotel, shoving his wallet into the crisp back pocket of his pants.

The Texas sun had set, so the walk to the restaurant wasn’t as excruciating as it could have been. Dave arrived at the restaurant at 6:30 like Terezi had told him to and leaned up against one of the pillars outside to wait for her.

He itched to take his phone out of his pocket to call John. It was a bad idea – he didn’t want to be talking on the phone when Terezi showed up, because her ridiculous hearing would have ensured that whatever conversation he had wouldn’t have been private. But John always knew what to say to make him feel better. Dave wondered what John would tell him now.

_Calm down, Dave. Take some deep breaths, you’re going to be fine. I believe in you. You’re going to be okay._

Imagining John’s voice was the best he could do, and surprisingly, it helped a little. Dave focused on his breathing, three seconds in, seven seconds out, three seconds in, seven seconds out, three seconds in –

“Dave.”

Dave jumped and his eyes shot up to find the voice that was unmistakably hers.

She was still beautiful.

Dave wished she hadn’t worn the black dress. It wasn’t fancy or anything, and she was wearing a red blazer too, but the dress reminded him of the time he had damn near torn it off of her after one of the nights she’d come to the club to hear him spin. They were in college, and she hadn’t wanted to get out and dance, but she’d leaned against the wall and nodded her head along to the beats and Dave had beamed and _Dave, you need to stop thinking about this right the fuck now._

He coughed. “Hi, Terezi.”

Her cane clacked as she walked towards him. “Shall we?” she asked, sounding much braver than Dave felt. She was much less businesslike now than she had been at their mediating appointment. It was almost as though nothing had changed between them, and yet Dave felt worlds away from her. She was untouchable and Dave was seized with the old recognizable feeling of inadequacy.

John’s voice came to him. _You deserve so much more. You’re not inadequate_. Dave felt a little bolder.

Dave held out his arm to her out of instinct, and, equally out of instinct, she latched on. They walked into the restaurant together.

“Hello, there. Table for two?” asked the plucky hostess. Dave nodded, and they followed her bouncy brown ponytail through the maze of tables and other servers before being seated by a window.

Dave pulled Terezi’s chair out before taking his own seat. She rested her cane against the wall next to her.

“Thanks for agreeing to dinner with me,” Terezi said. Dave was glad she’d begun the conversation; his mind was uncharacteristically blank. “How have you been?”

_Honestly, I’ve been shitty._ “Fine. How about you?”

“Well I was promoted, so I’ve been very busy. What have you been doing in Seattle?”

_Photoshoots_. “Pickin’ up odd jobs, makin’ myself useful. Y’know.”

Terezi’s eyebrows narrowed above her pointed red sunglasses. “Keeping out of Rose’s way?”

Dave almost answered with a confused “huh?” before it occurred to him that Terezi didn’t know he’d been staying with John. “Yeah, I tend to stay out of her hair.”

The two of them fell into a tense silence. Dave kept his eyes cast downward as he played with the beige cloth napkin in front of him. The waiter’s arrival was a welcome reprieve, and their food was ordered in a curt and businesslike manner. Once the waiter left, Dave’s eyes remained trained on the tabletop in front of him, although he stole glances up at Terezi every so often; each time she was studiously ignoring him.

“Why didn’t you call?” Dave heard himself asking. The words bubbled forth from his lips, out of his control. “You haven’t called me since that night. No texts, nothin’. I drove myself absolutely insane wonderin’ if I’d ever hear from you again, and suddenly your divorce summons shows up. What was I supposed to think, Terezi? The hell was I supposed to do?” He was breathing hard, gripping his hands together in his lap fiercely.

There was a very long pause wherein Terezi found it difficult to look up. Finally, she spoke softly.

“You were better off without me.”

“Excuse me?” Dave asked.

“You were happier. You were free from me. I didn’t have to hold you back anymore.” Terezi’s lip trembled.

“I don’t understand,” Dave murmured. His eyes flicked to the bar, where he could see Rose watching them like a cat. She turned her gaze when she saw Dave watching.

“Oh, don’t pretend that you were okay with the way things were,” Terezi said unhappily. “I could tell that all you wanted to do was to escape. So when you left… I decided to let you.”

“I hated myself for walkin’ out on you,” Dave said quietly. “I damn near put a bullet through my head for failing you.” He clenched his napkin between his fingers, twirling it nervously.

Terezi reached across the table to take his hands, prying them gently from the abused napkin and taking them in hers. “Dave, I failed you as a wife long before that night.”

“Don’t say that,” Dave said softly.

“It’s true,” Terezi cut him off. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it while we were separated. I’ve been to therapy. I realized that I was so afraid of losing you that I tried to control your entire life.”

Terezi’s explanation seemed strangely mature; Dave wondered how long she’d spent going over what she wanted to say. And it wasn’t really like her to admit that she was wrong. Maybe Terezi really had changed in the last five months. _But then again, Dave, you’ve changed too_ , came John’s voice in his head.

The food arrived, but Dave found that he wasn’t particularly hungry. He forced a smile at the waiter and proceeded to turn back to Terezi.

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this now,” he challenged.

“I had to apologize,” Terezi said. “Just let me admit I was wrong, okay? It’s hard enough making myself say this once.”

Dave was silent. This was exactly the opposite of how he’d expected this night to go. He’d anticipated awkward tenseness, total silence, Terezi’s ceaseless chattering, even weird seductive ploys to win him back, but he was not prepared for her brutal honesty.

“My therapist said it was a good idea to explain myself to you. Before the divorce is… y’know, finalized,” Terezi explained.

“So we’re still getting divorced?” Dave asked. He hated that he could hear the small edge of disappointment in his voice.

“…Yeah, we are,” Terezi said after a pause. “It’s probably for the best. I’m sure you’re a great photographer, Dave. And I know you’re a great DJ. And you’re probably great at a lot of other things, but I can’t share those things with you, and that’s okay. I need to focus on my own life without constantly worrying that you’re finally going to realize you can do better.”

“Why are you bein’ so… nice about this?” Dave asked. “It’s not like you to apologize, y’know, s’ just so… different, I dunno, not that different is bad, I’m just not used to it, I guess.” He bit his tongue to keep himself from rambling.

Terezi sighed. “I love you, Dave,” she said, and Dave felt himself flush. “And I probably always will. You were there for me through all of my weird teenage bullshit, you supported my decision to go to law school, and you were so willing to appease me and make me feel better when I was angry or sad. But you’re too damn selfless.”

“What do you mean?” Dave asked.

“Think about it. Putting up with me probably put you through hell. But you didn’t complain, not once. And at first I thought it was because you loved me and you didn’t mind, but maybe you were just scared to say anything. And neither of us deserves a relationship like that.”

Dave was silent, but he knew she was right.

“Do you… do you remember what you said to me before you left?” Terezi asked softly.

“No,” Dave mumbled, although it was a damn filthy lie; he remembered every vivid, torturous second of it.

“You told me I couldn’t boss you around anymore,” she said. “And that’s when I knew things needed to change. I never wanted to hurt you, but I think that night was the first time you’d ever truly said how you felt. You were honest with me, and honestly? I was kinda proud of you, in a fucked up way.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Dave said after a moment. It was weird hearing her curse. “So… so what now? Where do we go from here?”

“Well, I’m on track to become a partner at my firm. Makara thinks I’ve got what it takes. And as for you… I don’t know what you’ll do. But you’re resourceful. You’ll figure something out.”

Dave’s heart swelled with a weird sense of pride. “Thanks,” he said, smiling at her genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. The food in front of him had gone cold, but he ate anyway, more for something to do than out of any sense of hunger. Terezi chewed silently as well, though Dave noticed her hands shaking. When the waiter arrived with their check, Terezi snatched it before Dave could say anything.

“You don’t have to,” Dave started, but Terezi cut him off.

“Let me do something nice for you for a change,” she said, sliding her credit card into the tall black book.

“If you insist,” Dave said, studying her. It felt nice, actually conversing with her again like they used to, before years of anger and resentment settled between them. As they stood to leave, Dave leaned into kiss her cheek. She let it happen, and he lingered a little longer than he’d wanted to, but when he pulled away, it felt final.

They left the restaurant, and Dave watched her go, and it occurred to him that he wasn’t upset. Rose emerged from the restaurant moments later, and, sliding her hand into his, she led him the opposite direction, back towards their hotel room.

“How do you feel?” Rose asked. Dave made a small noise in the back of his throat. It hadn’t been the train wreck he’d expected, but it was more of a step towards healing. It still hurt… god, did it still hurt. But Rose interpreted his silence correctly, and she leaned her head against his arm briefly as they walked through the dark Texas night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hopefully this gives sufficient information about Terezi's side of the story.   
> Also writing from Dave's POV is harder than expected.  
> Thanks to all of you for sticking with this story. :)


	30. Dreamt About You Nearly Every Night This Week

John had no idea when Dave had taken these pictures.

There were three of them. The first must have been taken in the early morning, because John recognized light bars of sunlight peeking through the curtains into his living room. In the center of the photograph, he could make out his own sleeping figure, unresponsive and tangled in the bedsheets on the pull-out sofa bed. The soft, slightly blurred quality of the picture felt weirdly intimate, and John felt the blush creep up his cheeks. It was beautiful.

The second one John recognized from the day Dave had taken Jane’s senior pictures. It was another photograph of himself, leaning against a tree, not paying attention to the camera in the slightest. His mouth was open and smiling, likely talking to Jade or Jake. He looked carefree and happy and at rest, and John felt the corners of his mouth tugging upward. How Dave had managed to capture this exact moment in time was beyond him, but then again, Dave had skill.

The third one was – John dropped it in surprise, his face going even redder than before. How Dave had taken _this_ photograph was an even bigger mystery. John knew that he was usually half-asleep during his morning rituals, but he thought that he probably would have noticed if someone was taking a picture of him, only in boxers, stretching in front of the mirror. He wasn’t a particularly buff guy, but the lighting in the bathroom bounced off each of his individual back muscles, making his torso seem less lanky and more filled out. John scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

Furthermore, _why_ had Dave taken these pictures? It wasn’t as though John was camera-shy. He was perfectly willing to let Dave snap test shots of him before shoots as a warmup. But they were impersonal, professional; they didn’t make John flush red and incite a weird stirring in his stomach and groin. No, these pictures were something else, something private and intimate and warm, a well-kept secret.

 _These are a secret!_ John thought, panicking. He stuffed them haphazardly back into the manila envelope and pushed it back beneath Dave’s sweatshirt in the drawer, which he proceeded to slam shut. His heart was racing for reasons he was a little bit afraid to consider. His mind flitted of its own accord to the morning Dave had left, and his conflicting emotions about Dave being shirtless. The thought made John flush red.

His phone began to buzz in his pocket, and he jumped, internally cursing himself for being so on edge. His caller ID read Dave’s name in bright LED lights. _Oh, shit, Dave’s dinner with Terezi must be finished._ Sighing, he answered.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” came Dave’s voice, calmer than expected. John exhaled, relieved. “It was weird, though.”

“Weird how?”

“She kept apologizin’ for being a bad wife to me and how we’re both better off now. She’s right, even though it sucks,” Dave explained. John privately agreed with Terezi, although aloud he simply made a sympathetic noise.

“Anyway, my court date is in a couple days, and then I gotta grab some stuff out of… out of Terezi’s house, but I should be back in Seattle in a week tops,” Dave said happily. “I’m just glad this nightmare’s gonna be over soon.”

“I’m glad too,” John murmured in assent. His eyes flicked to the closed drawer, the drawer with the sweatshirt, the drawer with the photographs. “Hey, Dave?”

“Mmm?”

John hesitated. Burning though the desire was to pepper Dave with questions, mostly _why_ with a little bit of _why me_ , he decided that this was probably not a conversation best had over the phone and over multiple state lines.

“Uh… n-nothing. Nothing,” he stammered, inwardly cursing.

“Whatever you say, weirdo,” Dave responded. John let out a relieved breath; if Dave thought he was acting strange, he hadn’t said anything about it. Dave continued to talk, something about Rose, but John found himself more focused on the soothing timbre of Dave’s voice, still slightly affected by his light Texan drawl, remembering the first time he talked to Dave on the phone in Prankster’s Gambit, when Dave had called him to thank him for returning Terezi’s photo album. God, John could barely believe it had been almost two years.

“…so anyway, Mrs. O’Leary’s house is still standing, right, even though I’ve got a gallon of lighter fluid in the trunk of my car and my buddies ‘n me are laughin’ and having a great time, but we could never bring ourselves to torch the damn thing,” Dave finished a story that John had only been half paying attention to.

“You prob’ly don’t wanna listen to me reminisce about being here,” Dave said offhandedly. Immediately John rushed to reassure him.

“No, I don’t mind, reminisce away! It’s cool that you get to be back in Houston,” he said encouragingly.

“I guess even though I’ve only been in Washington a few months, this still sorta feels like a lifetime ago,” Dave said, somewhat wistfully. “Old Dave never really did appreciate his surroundings.”

“Old Dave is gone,” John said soothingly. “And New Dave is up and kickin’.”

“You’re right,” Dave laughed. There was a brief pause. “I miss you, man.”

“Miss you too,” John murmured, thinking of the manila envelope in the desk drawer in the living room. _More than you know_. “’S quiet around here without you.”

“Staying outta trouble, I see,” Dave joked, and John could hear the lopsided grin in his voice.

“You know me,” John laughed.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go,” Dave said. “I didn’t really realize how exhausted I am until, like, now.”

“Makes sense,” John agreed. Having dinner with your ex-wife was probably draining, although John wouldn’t know. “Good night.”

“Yeah. Sweet dreams, Egbert,” Dave said before hanging up.

John heaved a sigh. He felt drawn towards the drawer with Dave’s photographs, seized with the desire to pore over them for hours. Part of him regretted opening the envelope, somewhat because he felt bad about sneaking through Dave’s stuff, but moreso because he didn’t exactly know how to feel about the implications.

He thought about the sheer time and effort that Dave must have gone to. He usually spent hours retouching his photos, and rarely was he proud enough of a particular photograph to get them professionally printed. John couldn’t help but feel somewhat self-conscious about the care that must have gone into them, although he couldn’t deny the twinges of flattery that accompanied it. He imagined Dave staying up late into the night, adjusting the lighting on each photograph until he was satisfied. And each photograph was of him, at his most vulnerable. John felt slightly embarrassed, and slightly more pleased.

So Dave was his friend, certainly. John might even go so far as to say that Dave was his best friend; it had been a while since John had had one of those, and as much as he adored Rose, his relationship with Dave was different somehow. His initial artistic admiration for Dave’s photography skills had blossomed into more; a fierce desire to protect him from the unfair hand he had been dealt, a glowing sense of pride at Dave’s ability to overcome all of the despair he had been dealing with, and yet at the same time they were able to maintain their easygoing banter like it was the first day they’d met and they were discussing plans for Dave’s and Terezi’s wedding. Dave was special, Dave was important, and now that Dave had gone and made himself at home in John’s house, John felt it impossible to imagine life without him.

And then there was the fact that Dave was attractive.

It had first really hit John the morning that Dave had left for Houston, when he’d accidentally stumbled upon Dave in the bathroom and had experienced the most confusing erection of his adult life. He’d tried to explain it away or ignore it, but that didn’t change the fact that Dave had begun cropping up in John’s thoughts in the middle of the night, shirtless and moaning. One or two weird wet dreams would have been enough of a coincidence for John to feel confident in brushing it off – who hasn’t had sexual thoughts about their best friend, right? – but the alarming frequency of Dave’s presence in his mind was making it harder for him to ignore.

He made a mental note to talk to Rose when she got back from Texas. He wasn’t sure he could handle this by himself.

John realized he’d been staring open-mouthed at his phone since Dave had hung up on him.

 _I need to get out_ , John thought to himself. Glancing once more at the small dresser that sat innocently in the corner, John grabbed his old iPod, shrugged on his coat, and walked out the front door.

November in Seattle was the sort of cold that’s not quite _miserable_ but definitely freezing enough for the light dusting of snow that had begun to blanket most of northern Washington. John stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled through the half-inch of dusty white snow at his feet, trudging towards the bus station. He didn’t really have anywhere to go, but he figured he might as well walk around downtown. As he walked, he put in his headphones and pressed _shuffle_.

John stood underneath the bus shelter, shivering slightly. He wished he’d remembered to bring a hat, or earmuffs, or something. Taking a walk had seemed like such a great idea when he had been inside and warm. He gleaned very little heat from the setting sun. John suddenly became aware of the song that was playing through his headphones. _Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you’d stay, darling we both know that the night were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day –_

John blushed and hit ‘skip’ on his iPod. The last thing he needed was to be thinking about Dave and listening to music like an emotional teenager with a crush.

A crush, huh?

The bus arrived at his stop, and John was oddly disappointed to find that Karkat wasn’t the driver. He knew that Karkat probably had other routes, but he still would have appreciated someone to talk to, even someone as grumpy as his usual bus driver.

John got off the bus at his usual stop a few blocks away from Prankster’s Gambit. The store was probably still open, given that the sun was just setting, but he decided to go the opposite way along the sidewalk that he usually took to get to work. He needed a change of pace; maybe he’d find something of interest. John fought the urge to dig out his phone and call Dave, although he knew the guy must be sleeping.

John hadn’t realized how much he depended on Dave’s presence in his life. He had hobbies, certainly, and he certainly had other obligations, but it felt like he had been living his life in black and white before Dave had shown up on his doorstep. And for the first time since then, he found himself without Dave once more, and he didn’t like it at all. He replayed Dave’s voice in his head: _I should be back in Seattle in a week tops._

John was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice when he ran directly into someone. Their briefcase popped open and folders were strewn along the snowy ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he spluttered, kneeling immediately to help rescue the folders before the wet snow could turn them into a wrinkled mess.

“Not a problem, John,” said a man’s reassuring voice. John looked up, recognizing the man as one of his father’s business associates. He had no idea what the man’s name was, but he had been wearing the exact same dark grey hat since as long as John could remember, and as such John had always called him Hat Guy.

Flustered, John handed the folders back to Hat Guy. He took them and slipped them into his briefcase before fixing John with a smile.

“So, how is running the joke shop these days?” Hat Guy asked, genuinely interested. Damn, John _really_ needed to learn his name. He did remember that Hat Guy was a real estate inspector, and his father had been the one to sell Nanna the property for the joke shop.

“It’s –” John began, but he found he didn’t have the words. _Unfulfilling_ was the first word that came to mind, but he didn’t want to sound ungrateful to his father. Maybe at one point in his life he would have been content to settle for a life as a young business owner married to his job, but he was setting his sights a little higher.

“It’s fine,” he decided as a response. “What are you doing in the area?”

“Just had to inspect a small property up the road here,” Hat Guy answered, cocking his head in the direction from whence he had come. “Used to be a photo studio, but the previous owners moved. They’re looking to sell it as soon as possible.”

John had a crazy idea.

“May I inspect it?” he asked.

“You interested in buying it?” Hat Guy asked. “Because I’m not technically supposed to show it to anyone that isn’t a prospective buyer.”

“Humor me,” John said, a smile growing on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow wow finally got around to posting this chapter. I'm studying abroad this semester and have less time to write but I PROMISE I'm still writing this!!! Thanks to all of you for sticking with this story, y'all have waited for the Johndave and the Johndave is finally getting delivered! Also, thanks for putting up with my not-so-subtle admiration for Arctic Monkeys.  
> Also also, [here](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) is my tumblr.


	31. Hello My Old Heart

Airports tended to have a very calming effect on John, especially this early in the morning. Something about the glaring fluorescent lights illuminating the vast open areas, relatively empty save for a few odd travelers milling around, made John’s breathing somehow slower and easier. Usually bustling with people, the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport was quiet, but it was the quiet of a place that really never sleeps. John’s watch read six forty-five in the morning, although he’d been awake since four. Rose and Dave’s flight was supposed to land twenty minutes ago, but John had been so nervous about accidentally sleeping through their flight landing that he’d intentionally set his alarm for over an hour earlier than he’d needed to leave. This was somewhat of a mistake, as he quickly tired of pacing around his empty apartment.

He’d talked to Dave for a few hours the previous night, working out the details. Dave was shipping a bunch of the things he’d salvaged from his old house to Seattle, to be put into a storage unit until he figured out what else to do with it. It was due to arrive a few days after Dave himself, which John was happy to help with. He’d rolled his eyes good-naturedly when Dave informed him of the time that their flight was going to land, but here he was, seated outside the baggage claim, his eyes peeled for signs of his two best friends.

John watched a tired barista at the undoubtedly overpriced Starbucks make a latte for a frazzled-looking man in a starchy grey suit. He entertained the idea of getting his own cup of liquid energy when he heard a voice call out to him.

“John!”

John snapped his head around, eyes searching frantically before settling on the two blond siblings descending the escalator towards the baggage claim. Dave, still bespectacled, somehow looked tanner and more freckled than he had when he’d left, even though it was now November and everywhere else in the country was freezing. Even Rose had put some color on her usually snow-pale cheeks. Both wore identical toothy grins. John held out his arms, feeling his own smile warm his cheeks.

“It’s cold as hell here!” Dave exclaimed as soon as he came within speaking distance. “And _snowing_! I missed it!”

“My brother is insane,” Rose laughed, accepting John’s embrace warmly.

“My turn, move it,” Dave nudged Rose, who yelped playfully. Dave smiled as he leaned in to hug John, which sort of made his stomach twinge lightly. As he pulled Dave into his arms, John felt his body relax, and it occurred to him that he hadn’t felt this as peace since Dave left. He felt himself blushing, holding the hug just a little bit too long.

Rose coughed, jerking her head towards the baggage claim, where various colored suitcases were being spat out onto the rotating platform.

“Be right back,” Dave grinned, holding John and arm’s length for a brief moment, hands on his shoulders. “Missed you, man.”

“Missed you, too,” John smiled. He watched Dave retreat towards the baggage claim. He watched the two of them retrieve their baggage, suddenly feeling an anxious pull in the pit of his stomach. Thinking about Dave as much as he had was fine while Dave had been gone, but now actually facing the prospect of _dealing_ with these thoughts frightened him.

Best not say anything about it now, though. Now, Dave was all smiles and jokes, looking freer than John had seen him look in days. If he was feeling the effects of being newly divorced, he didn’t look it.

John dropped Rose off in Tacoma, where her unsuspecting fiancée-to-be was likely just waking up. And then it was just him and Dave, in the car, by themselves.

Thankfully, it wasn’t as frightening as John had feared. Dave babbled about Texas, affecting a very slight accent like he usually did when he was excited, and John was honestly happy to listen to him. Dave had apparently gotten drinks with a newly-married Tavros and Gamzee – “In high school we all always joked they were so close they’d probably get hitched, I dunno what I expected,” Dave said amiably – and, when asked if he’d done anything exciting in Dave’s absence, John merely smiled.

“What are you grinning for?” Dave asked suspiciously.

“Would you let it go if I told you you’ll find out eventually?” John asked.

“What the fuck, dude, no! If you did something super awesome in my absence, you are contractually obligated to tell me. That’s how best friends work!” Dave protested.

“I will, I will, I promise! Just not now,” John grinned. Dave pretended to pout out the window.

Best friends. The phrase made John so happy, but also it made his stomach twinge ever so lightly.

They got home, and the first thing Dave did was to collapse into the pull-out sofa bed that was still deployed. John had neglected to put it away, even though Dave had been gone a little over a month, and though he never would admit it, John had slept in the pull-out bed on more than one occasion when he missed Dave. Even thinking about that made him flush.

“God, I missed this bed,” Dave proclaimed, happily spread-eagled over the new sheets John had put out last night. “Sure, staying in a hotel is fine because free breakfast, but this is so much better.”

“It’s creaky as hell, but whatever you say,” John laughed. “What do you wanna do today? I’ve got the day off.”

The smile faded slightly from Dave’s face. “I was thinking about that,” he said. “Now that I’m officially moved out, I don’t really have a house. And I’ve been taking advantage of your hospitality for so long, and I feel kinda bad about it. So maybe… maybe you could come house-hunting with me?”

John’s stomach dropped. “I don’t mind, honestly,” he said, and it was the truth, though the bigger truth was that the idea of Dave moving out was not a pleasant one. “You’re welcome here for as long as you want to stay.”

“I do wanna stay,” Dave said. “But this is your home, and I’ve gotta have a place to put my stuff that I’m moving up from Texas… I just wouldn’t wanna make you rearrange your life for me, you know?”

 _It’s your home too. And you’ve already rearranged my life more than you know,_ John thought. But he said, “It’s okay. And yeah, I’ll come house-hunting with you. But you’re totally welcome to stay with me in the meantime until you find a place.”

“Good,” Dave grinned. “’Else I would have to live with Rose and Kanaya, and I dunno whose patience would give out first.”

They took to the internet to find nearby places within Dave’s price range. Dave insisted that he didn’t really need anything bigger than a studio apartment, so they began there. Finally, Dave had three or four possible contenders picked out.

John felt his chest deflate a little as he and Dave walked out to where his sedan was parked on the street outside of his townhouse. He wanted Dave to stay; the last month or so without him had been incredibly lonely, although he’d never admit it, and even if he had insisted that Dave stay, he don’t know what reason he would have given if Dave had wanted to know why. _Because I want to figure out how I feel about you? Because living without you is miserable?_

Despite John’s brooding, they made it to the first apartment listing Dave had liked. It was about a ten minute drive from John’s own townhouse, in a modern-looking apartment complex. Upon being shown into the sample room by a perky and overly friendly employee, Dave let out a low whistle.

The studio apartment was _tiny._ And John immediately realized that they’d neglected to look up dimensions of any of the places they’d looked at. The entry room was cramped even with minimal furniture, and the small kitchenette connected to it basically consisted of a refrigerator, a stove, and three cupboards. A short hallway led to the bedroom, which barely looked big enough to fit anything more than a twin-sized bed and a dresser. Hell, John’s dorm room in college had been bigger than this.

They nodded politely throughout the tour, although John could tell from Dave’s furtive glances that this was not exactly what he’d had in mind.

Finally when they got to the car, Dave burst out laughing.

“That might be suitable for a college grad used to living in a box, but I think I can find something better,” he said, chuckling.

“At least the employee was nice,” John commented, trying to look for a bright side.

“Heh, that’s true. Maybe the next one won’t make me feel like I’m living in a fishbowl.”

The next apartment was bigger, and John still twinged slightly at the sight of Dave’s shoulders relaxing in relief. The unit was nice, John admitted grudgingly; a spacious living room and a full kitchen, with an actual closet in the bedroom. Dave made an appreciative sound.

The landlady was a smiling woman who looked to be in her forties, wearing intense red lipliner and with her blonde hair pulled smartly back into a bun. John had tuned her out as she rambled off statistics about the apartment, but he was pulled into the conversation when she looked at him directly.

“Now, this apartment also is very quiet and the walls are thick – perfect for young couples just getting started,” she said with a knowing smile.

Immediately John _flushed_. It took Dave a second before he realized what she was insinuating.

“N-no,” John stammered. “I mean, we’re just – I mean, it’s not –”

“It’s _perfect_ , darling,” Dave purred, grinning slyly at John and winking. “Look, honey, maybe there’s a Jacuzzi. I know how much you love warm baths.” He strolled off towards the master bathroom, where John suspected he was about to break down laughing. The landlady smiled sweetly at him, though her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“He’s a weird one,” John mumbled, completely positive that his face was almost as red as Dave’s favorite sweatshirt. Dave reemerged from the bathroom, tears in his eyes and a grin still cemented on his face, and they finished the tour.

In the car, John buried his face in his hands. “That was sure something,” he groaned, his voice muffled by the sweatshirt sleeves over his face.

“That was the best entertainment I’ve had in a while,” Dave chuckled. “She was so confused! Makes me almost wanna rent the place. Then you can move out of your house and we can build our love nest from scratch.”

“I’ll bring the furniture,” John laughed outwardly, although he was sure his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“We could order pizza and play video games and raise a crop of scruffy orphans and it would be glorious,” Dave continued, waggling his fingers carelessly.

“I’m not sure I’d want my children being raised by someone who mains Luigi in Smash,” John retorted, sticking his tongue out.

Dave went off on a rant about the merits of Luigi, and John breathed a sigh of relief. Glad _that_ particular encounter was over. He did _not_ want to think about being domestic with Dave any more than he had to.

The last apartments were passable, and their landlords amiable, though Dave didn’t feel a particular pull towards either of them. “Honestly, the best place was the one with the landlady who thought we were a couple,” Dave said on the ride back to John’s townhouse. “Rent wasn’t bad, and it’s still pretty close to you. I’d have to get a car, though.”

“I’m sure we can find you a used junker or something,” John assured him, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Dave decided. “And probably talk to Rose. She’s smart and she knows how to be a person.”

By that time, it was fairly late, and Dave collapsed onto the pull-out bed much as he’d done that morning. “Ain’t no place like home,” he said fondly, patting the sheets. “Hey, man, you up for a movie? I’ve missed movie nights like you wouldn’t believe.”

“You know I could never say no to a movie,” John laughed. Dave went to the kitchen to microwave some popcorn, and John scrolled through his Netflix queue.

“Dude, they added National Treasure,” he called into the other room.

“Oh _hell_ yes,” Dave said, and John didn’t even care if he was being ironic in the weird way that Dave sometimes was.

National Treasure was one of John’s favorite movies, but he found himself completely distracted. He’d never noticed how _close_ Dave tended to get to him, how comfortable Dave was sharing his space. His hand knocked against John’s in the popcorn bowl on multiple occasions, and at one point he began jokingly nudging John’s knee with his own. John felt hyperaware of his own body, and suddenly Dave seemed _entirely too close_ and yet John couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Dave noticed.

“Hey, you okay? You seem tense,” he said, socking John gently in the shoulder. “Loosen up, man. Cage’ll find the treasure in the end.”

“Thank God, I was worried,” John rolled his eyes, though it took him a few seconds to actively unwind his own muscles.

Then the movie was over, and both John and Dave were exhausted after having been awake incredibly early. John retreated to his room to think, away from Dave’s concerned glances.

He fumbled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text.

Rose? I really need to talk to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKNwx82kPjY) is the song in the title of this chapter. That seems to be a theme lately... maybe I should make a HCCM playlist. :3  
>  Thanks again to all of you who keep this story alive. I live for your comments and I get super excited at any and all feedback. <3 <3 <3  
> Like always, I have a [tumblr!](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com)


	32. Nothing Like BFF Bonding

Sitting at his favorite table with his hot chocolate, facing his best friend as she blew on her steaming coffee, John realized how much he’d missed Rose while she had been gone with Dave. Texas had put some sun on her cheeks, making her eyes pop a little, accentuating the violet undertones amid the blue. He could feel calm radiating off of her, which was good, because he’d been so nervous about talking to her that he’d honestly been worried that he was going to throw up.

“Let’s skip the formalities and get straight to it,” Rose said, setting her coffee down after a tentative sip. John also noticed that her ring fingers were bare – Kanaya obviously hadn’t gotten up the courage yet. “What was that text all about?”

John coughed. He hadn’t intended on Rose being so straightforward, although he guessed he shouldn’t be surprised. But still, he’d anticipated having a little bit more time to waffle around and figure out what to say. _Rose, I think I’m falling for your brother_. _Rose, am I gay? Rose, help, please, you know how this stuff works_. He tried not to think about the fact that last night after Dave had gone to sleep, he had googled “I think I like my best friend who is also a guy” and stayed up until an ungodly hour reading advice on Yahoo Answers, some of it helpful but most of it drivel and none of it giving him the direction he wanted.

“Um…” he began. “When did you first realize you weren’t… uh… straight?”

It was an incredibly indirect question, and John knew it was a distraction from what he _really_ wanted to know, and by the strange look that crossed Rose’s face, he could tell she suspected he was deflecting as well. But she composed herself and humored him with a smile.

“I couldn’t tell you an exact time,” she began. “All I knew is that all my middle and high school friends were having crushes on boys, whereas I never saw the appeal. I mean, I was friends with guys, but I never harbored romantic feelings for any of them. Broke a few hearts that way too,” Rose grinned at the memory. “I thought girls were pretty, but I didn’t really realize the implications of that until I went to college in California and met this girl. She was older than me by a few years, and I didn’t talk to her that much, but there was just _something_ about her that commanded attention.”

“What was her name?” John wanted to know.

“Meenah. She was tall and had these long punk braids and a million piercings, and everything she said made me admire her even more. She was one of the coordinators of the LGBT society on campus, and though a lot of people thought she seemed scary, she was always so nice to me and encouraged me to come to events. She taught me a lot about myself. I had such a crush on her, but I don’t think she ever felt that way about me,” Rose mused. “She was the one who encouraged me to go into marriage and relationship therapy.”

“That’s awesome,” John said. He tried to imagine college Rose attending pride parades and wearing rainbow buttons on her backpack.

“Why do you ask?” Rose wanted to know, and John recognized the glint in her eye that said _I am fairly certain I know, but I want you to say it._

John took a deep breath. This was what he can to come to her for in the first place so why was this so hard to say? _I think I have feelings for Dave_. C’mon, Egbert it’s not that hard. Say it. C’mon, say it. Say-

“What if I told you I wasn’t sure if I was?” John asked. Close enough. “Y’know. Straight.”

“I’d say that sexuality is fluid and you’re allowed to change how you identify,” Rose said confidently. The answer flowed so easily from her lips that John wondered if she’d given it before.

“I don’t know, though. If that’s how I… y’know, identify,” John said, sipping his hot chocolate as he fumbled for words. Why was this so _hard_? “I mean, I’ve only really dated girls before. I like girls, I think they’re pretty,” he finished lamely.

“Let me introduce you to a concept called _bisexuality_ ,” Rose laughed kindly. John’s ears went red.

“I know what bisexuality is,” he pouted. “I just kinda always though it was, like, 50-50.”

“Not so,” Rose said. “Plenty of people are bisexual with tendencies towards one gender.”

“I don’t know if I want to call myself bisexual, though,” John frowned. “This is kind of a lot of information to take in at once.”

“You don’t have to call yourself anything you don’t want to,” Rose assured him. “I take it you met someone that’s making you question?”

 _In a manner of speaking, yeah_. “Kind of, yeah,” he answered. “But it’s weird, and I don’t even know if he’s attracted to men, let alone if he’s attracted to me.” John found it easier to talk about Dave if he didn’t actually mention Dave’s name.

“Well, how does he act around you?” Rose asked. “Does he smile and laugh a lot? Does he seem comfortable around you, or eager to spend time with just the two of you?”

 _Yeah, because he’s my best friend_. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Well, at the very least he likes spending time with you,” Rose smiled. “Maybe you should ask him out.”

“What? No!” John yelped. “I can’t do that, I don’t know how to do that.”

“Just see if he wants to get a drink or see a movie or something,” Rose advised. “Spend some actual alone time together.”

 _We live together. It’s practically always alone time_. “I’ll see what I can do,” John said.

“Keep me updated,” Rose grinned. “So what’s he like? What’s his name, how did you meet?”

John’s brain short-circuited. He began stammering uselessly. Rose quirked an eyebrow.

“Do I know him?” She asked helpfully. Figuring it’d be useless to lie, John nodded, against his will. He regretted doing this almost immediately, upon realizing that he and Rose didn’t share many mutual friends. Rose, too, looked momentarily stumped, until a look of realization dawned on her face.

“You have a crush on my brother, don’t you,” Rose said carefully, her face breaking into a grin.

“What? No! Maybe? I don’t know. Shut up,” John mumbled, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t tell him, okay?”

Rose looked positively giddy. “Of course I won’t tell him, who do you think I am?” She laughed. “You’re blushing! That’s so cute! You _really_ like him. Since when?”

“I don’t know,” John said, surprised at how distraught he sounded. “I guess I just noticed his absence a lot while you guys were in Texas. And I missed having him around and stuff.”

“Do you find him attractive?” Rose asked slyly.

“Uh,” John said. Maybe he shouldn’t tell Rose about the dreams. His embarrassed face was enough of an answer for her.

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” Rose smiled. “I will say for you, though, that you don’t need to worry about Dave having the capability of being attracted to men.”

“Wait, what?” John asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“Way back in college, he asked me much the same questions as you did just now,” Rose said. “The only difference was that he had been in a relationship with Terezi for a few years at that point and was wondering if it was ‘okay’ for him to have a crush on a guy while he was still in love with her.” She put finger quotes around the word ‘okay.’

“And what did you tell him?” John wanted to know.

“That it was both fine and normal as long as he didn’t act upon it without her knowledge or permission,” Rose said lightly. “That, and that I would accept him no matter who he had feelings for. We both came out to each other that day.”

John wished, not for the first time, that he had known college Rose. She was wise even then, and she probably would have encouraged him to think critically about his life instead of just meandering through college, taking classes that felt right, ultimately knowing that Prankster’s Gambit was his destiny and looking forward to that.

“So… I guess… what do I do?” he asked, looking down at his hands.

“Well,” Rose began, looking down at the coffee warming her hands, “you’ve been living with Dave for quite a few months now. You know him and his reactions better than you think you do. Trust your gut. I know that’s not very good advice, but it’s the advice that’s most likely to succeed.”

“I guess you’re right,” John said, sipping his hot chocolate pensively. “Just… what if I end up telling him and he only sees me as a friend? It’s gonna get _awkward_.”

“Maybe,” Rose said. “But it wouldn’t be the end of the world. And trust me, it’d only be awkward for a little bit. Dave brushes stuff off really easily.”

John grimaced. He was sure Dave would take it in stride. Dave was casual, Dave was cool, and John knew that _he_ the one who was going to keep himself up at night if he accidentally ruined the closest friend he’d had in years, not Dave.

“I guess you’re right. This is dumb, we should change the subject. My love life is dumb. Yours rocks,” John said gracelessly. To his surprise, displeasure darkened Rose’s face, if only momentarily.

“Okay, what was that look about?” John asked.

“It’s nothing,” Rose said, too quickly.

“It most certainly is not nothing,” John protested. “Rose, I just confessed that I have a crush on your brother. You can tell me what’s up.”

“It’s Kanaya,” Rose sighed. “She’s been… really cagey since I got back from Texas. And really nervous around me, like I might attack her or something. And she insists nothing is wrong and that I should stop worrying about it, but that only makes me worry about it more. I know she’s _probably_ not cheating on me, but she _has_ been coming and going more frequently and she won’t say where she’s been. And I trust her, but it’s just hard to feel like she’s keeping secrets from me. She usually tells me everything, that’s one of the most important parts about our relationship.”

John grinned despite himself. Of course Kanaya was acting cagey, she was about to propose to the love of her life. But she had sworn John to secrecy, and John intended to honor that.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured Rose confidently, laying a hand on her arm. “Kanaya loves you, and I _know_ she’s not cheating on you.”

“How do you know that? You’ve only met once,” Rose said.

“Trust me, I just do,” John smiled. Rose seemed a little more at ease, and John pulled his phone out to text Kanaya later to stop beating around the damn bush. To his surprise, his phone began to ring immediately as he was about to type in Kanaya’s name. He picked up.

“Hello?”

“ _John!_ ” It was Dave, although John couldn’t immediately hear him over the blaring sirens in the background. “John, holy shit, I’m so fucking sorry –”

“Dave, calm down, oh my god, are you okay? What’s happening, what’s wrong?” John stood up, and Rose looked at him in alarm.

“I don’t know how it happened.” Dave sounded _panicked_ , hyperventilating and near tears. “I was just bakin’ cookies like I sometimes do and I musta just not been payin’ attention because I stepped out for a second and came back an’ there were _flames_ and holy shit, I threw baking soda on it ‘cause that’s what you’re supposed to do but it caught your cabinet and now the firemen are here and all your shit is soaked and I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god –”

“Dave!” John cut him off. “ _Are you all right?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I got out and called 911, but man, your kitchen is probably wrecked, and it’s all my fault and I’m so sorry –”

“Shut up a second, okay?” John barked. Everything was happening so quickly, but _Dave was safe_ and he decided to focus on that for the time being. “I’m just out getting coffee with Rose, I’ll be back home as soon as possible and I’ll call my insurance. You’re going to be fine, okay? Just stay there and I’ll come to you.”

“’Kay,” Dave said weakly. “Hurry up, okay?”

“I’m on my way,” John promised, hanging up.

“What was that all about?” Rose asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Dave set my kitchen on fire,” John said. A laugh bubbled up inside of him; this wasn’t funny, a lot of his house probably had smoke damage and he’d probably need new cabinets and John didn’t really know what else there was to do besides laugh.

“Are you okay?” Rose sounded alarmed. “Here, I’m gonna come with you. I’ve got a car, I’ll drive.”

“Thank you,” he said, still chuckling humorlessly as they grabbed their half-full coffee cups and rushed out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT


	33. A Change of Scenery

John should have expected the full-tilt chaos that was the front of his house, and yet he was still stunned by the huge fire truck, ambulance, and multiple police cars that were all blaring sirens and flashing lights. Curious neighbors had poked their heads out of windows, and when John showed up, people immediately began yelling questions at him.

“You okay there, Egbert?”

“What happened?”

John waved and nodded solemnly, having eyes only for the hunched blond man wrapped in a blanket and sitting in the back of the ambulance with an oxygen mask over his face, tears carving a path down his cheeks through the layer of smoky ash that coated his face and clothes. Dave’s glasses were folded in his lap, and his eyes were redder than normal, though from crying or smoke irritation John couldn’t tell.

“Dave, oh my god, are you all right?” he asked concernedly, as Rose held out her arms for a hug. Dave removed the oxygen mask from his face and practically collapsed into Rose’s outstretched gesture, shaking. John ran a hand through his hair. At that moment, a police officer approached him.

“Sir, is this your house?” the officer asked. John nodded.

“I already gave a report,” Dave said weakly. “But I didn’t have any of your insurance information so they needed to talk to you about that.”

“That’s fine,” John assured him. He talked to the police officer about his coverage, which thankfully was fairly high. Dad had always told him that he could cut a lot of corners in life, but insurance wasn’t one of them, and John was glad that he had heeded him.

Once he had sorted out his insurance, John returned to where Rose and Dave were. Rose was on the phone with Kanaya explaining that she would be a little late in coming home. John sat down next to Dave, dangling his legs off of the back of the ambulance.

“They said they’d let me know the extent of the damage when they were done,” Dave said sullenly. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his face was smeared with the attempts to wipe his damp cheeks. “I’m so sorry, John, of all the idiotic fuckin’ things to do, I haven’t even back in your damn house for two full days.”

“It’s fine, it’s just a house,” John assured him, laying a hand on Dave’s. To his surprise, Dave squeezed his hand back. John felt fluttering in his stomach that was completely inappropriate to the situation they found themselves in.

A firefighter approached the two of them, and John drew his hand away and stood up. The firefighter took off her helmet, revealing a Japanese-looking woman with thick dark hair.

“My name is Chief Megido,” she said, holding her hand out by way of introduction. John shook it. “There’s a lotta damage in the room of origin, which looks to be the kitchen. Most of your cabinets and kitchenware are unusable, and the ceiling is charred. Most of the damage was sustained to that room, though there may be some water damage from the hoses, but the rest of your house looks to be fine. We’d like your permission to clear out the rubble and make your home habitable, which could take anywhere between a few weeks and a month. Your insurance seems to cover replacement of almost everything, so that’s lucky. Have you got somewhere to stay in the meantime?”

John nodded numbly. He could stay with his dad, or even Rose and Kanaya if the situation was that desperate.

“All right. I need you to sign this consent form for us to replace everything. You will be consulted about everything from cabinets to carpets before we put it in, so don’t worry about that.” John signed the form. “All right. If there is anything you need from the house before we secure it, I will have two of my men go in with you to make sure nothing falls on you.”

John looked over at Dave, who nodded wordlessly. Although the rest of Dave’s stuff was coming up from Texas, everything he owned was currently inside the house. John also figured he should rescue some of his clothes. Reluctantly, Dave withdrew himself from the ambulance blanket wrapped around his shoulders, at which point it became obvious to John that Dave hadn’t had time to grab a coat before he’d run from the burning house.

They were led in by two larger firemen, both of whom insisted on checking every doorframe and sooty patch of ceiling before allowing John or Dave to enter. The air was stale with smoke, and John’s feet squelched as he stepped over the soaked carpet. Dave veered into the living room to salvage his things, and John made his way into his bedroom. It hadn’t sustained much damage, though the air still smelled of ash.

He found a (thankfully dry) suitcase at the back of his closet and shoveled some (thankfully dry) clothing into it, and piled a few boxes of paperwork for the joke shop that had miraculously survived. As John looked around his room, it occurred to him that he didn’t have much as far as material possessions went. Maybe it was a good thing that he lived a relatively simple life.

Dave poked his head into John’s room. “Hey, I’m cleared out so I’m gonna wait for you outside,” he told him, jerking his head towards the front door. John nodded his assent. “Also, I grabbed your Wii, so don’t get all freaked out, you didn’t get robbed.”

“Good to know,” John called after him. He grabbed his shampoo and toothbrush out of the bathroom and made to follow Dave out the door, but as he passed the living room, a curious sensation bubbled up in his chest. He made a quick detour over to the dresser in the corner. John slowly opened the top drawer; as he suspected, the manila envelope of photographs of him was gone, along with Dave’s red sweatshirt.

So Dave had taken the photographs with him, which meant he hadn’t forgotten about them. John still burned to know _why_ Dave had taken them in the first place, but amidst all of his confusion towards Dave right now, he hadn’t found a time to ask about it yet. But he kept promising himself that he would.

Pushing that to the back of his mind, he braced himself for the winter air and left the house, the two firemen trailing behind him. It didn’t look like there was anything more for him to do, so he went back over to where Rose and Dave had taken refuge inside Rose’s running car.

“I’m so sorry,” Dave said again as John opened the backseat and slid in.

“It’s fine, I needed new cabinets anyway,” John joked. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I am too,” added Rose. “You are both welcome to stay with me in Tacoma, by the way. I know it’s a little out of the way, but even if you just needed somewhere to wait it out, I would be happy to host you.”

“Thanks, sis, but we’ve already got a place,” Dave grinned.

“You do?” Rose asked, at the same time John asked, “We do?” _And what do you mean, “we”?_

“Yeah, John came with me apartment hunting last week, and I put an offer on the place I liked. The landlady called me earlier to tell me the unit was mine if I wanted it, and I accepted. Oh, that was the one where the landlady thought we were a gay couple,” Dave added to John with a laugh. Rose quirked an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth twisted up in a smirk. John avoided eye contact.

“That was a nice place,” he said instead.

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you when you got home from coffee with my dear sweet sister, but then I set your place on fire instead,” Dave said sheepishly.

“Nice timing,” John said dryly. “When can you move in?”

“Tomorrow, she said, but I thought I might call and ask if we can move in, say, right now,” Dave said. “She really liked me, said I was one of the best people who had placed an offer.”

“Charm gets you places,” Rose grinned as Dave pulled out his phone and dialed his new landlady’s number.

“Hello? Yes, this is Dave Strider, the new tenant in unit 612?” Pause. “Yes, I was calling to ask about the move-in date. Is there any way I would be able to move in today?” Another pause. “Great, thank you so much! We’ll see you in a few hours.” Dave hung up and grinned up at John and Rose. “She needs a few hours to get everything straightened up, but we can move in by two.”

“Is she gonna be okay with both of us living there, even though it’s only your name on the lease?” John asked.

“Uh… about that,” Dave said. “She still… uh… kinda thinks we’re together. I haven’t corrected her yet.”

John nodded as casually as he could muster, trying his hardest to ignore the way Rose’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and her badly-concealed grin. “That’s lucky,” John managed to choke out, but if Dave noticed that John was acting strangely, he didn’t say anything.

Rose glanced at the clock and jumped. “Oh my god, I’m about to be late to an appointment with a client,” she said frantically. “Have you two got this figured out from here?”

“We’ll manage,” John promised her as he and Dave clambered out of her car into the cold early-afternoon air.

“Good luck,” Rose told him, making eye contact that felt twelve times stronger than normal eye contact should have. “With everything.” John ignored the emphasis on the last word, but nodded his thanks.

“Well, we’ve got a few hours before we can move in,” Dave said, glancing at his watch. “Want to go grab food or something?”

“Might as well,” John shrugged. As they walked towards John’s car, it began to lightly snow. Dave’s teeth began to chatter, and John was suddenly very glad that he had insisted on Dave keeping one of his old peacoats, since he doubted Dave would have an appropriate coat for winter in Washington. Tiny snowflakes dotted Dave’s hair and shoulders.

“Have you ever seen snow before?” John asked as they got into the car. “Like, actual snow, not just a half inch that melts in three days.”

“Yeah,” Dave nodded. “When I was really little, like maybe six tops, we took a family vacation to Colorado, but Dirk broke his leg on the black diamond trying to impress some guy and we spent most of the trip in the hospital with him.”

John laughed. “Washington’s gonna be interesting for you, then.” It was early December, and they’d gotten an inch or so, but there was still time.

“It’ll be my first white Christmas,” Dave said happily.

They ended up outside an Indian restaurant – Dave had suggested Chinese but John was deathly allergic to peanuts and that made going to Chinese restaurants about as much of a risk as playing Russian roulette – and twenty minutes later they left with boxes of tandoori chicken, vegetable curry, rice, and garlic naan. John had contemplated sitting down, but the place was busy with their lunch traffic and Dave wanted to move into the apartment as soon as possible, so they ended up taking their feast to the car.

“Thanks for letting me stay with you,” John said as he dipped his naan into the spicy curry. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was pleased with the prospect of continuing to live with Dave.

“No problem!” Dave exclaimed, his eyes lighting up behind his shades. “It’s not like I could say no, since I’ve basically been living in your house for the past six months and also it’s kind of my fault you can’t live in your own place.”

“Still, I really appreciate it,” John said. “I wouldn’t have wanted to impose on my dad, and living in Tacoma would have been sort of inconvenient, although Rose was sweet to offer.”

“Makes sense. It was just kinda lucky that I’d happened to get a place the morning that your place became unlivable. Maybe it’s karma or something, like the universe was trying to smite me for moving out and leaving my best bro all alone.”

John’s stomach squirmed. “Funny how the universe works out sometimes,” he agreed.

Once their food was done, Dave checked his watch. “Looks like we’re just in time! Let’s go get our keys and move our stuff in.”

As John drove to their – or rather, _Dave’s_ – new apartment, he had a thought. “Do you have any furniture? Like are you gonna be sleeping on the floor? Are we just gonna be in a completely empty one-bedroom apartment until your stuff comes up from Texas?”

“No, don’t worry about that, I asked and the unit could come furnished or unfurnished, so I chose furnished for a little extra,” Dave assured him. They parked in the small parking lot in front of the apartment building and hurried inside out of the cold, dragging their few possessions behind them. The snow was beginning to come down harder now.

John followed Dave up a flight of stairs to a unit down the first hallway. Dave knocked politely on the door, and when it opened, John found himself facing the smiling landlady who had mistaken them for a couple the first time they’d looked at the apartment.

“Dave! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! The weather’s supposed to get bad later tonight, haven’t you heard?”

“I hadn’t heard that,” Dave said. “I’ve been a little too busy today to look at the forecast.”

“Winter storms, they’re saying!” exclaimed the landlady. Smiling her too-wide smile, she turned to John. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced! My name is Ms. Paint, yes, as in finger paint. Weird name, I know! What’s yours?”

“Uh, I’m John Egbert,” John told her, extending his hand for a handshake. She shook it warmly before retreating into her room and returning with two sets of keys. “Here are your keys. This one,” she said, holding up a silver one, “will get you into the apartment building after eleven o’clock at night, which is the building’s curfew. And the other one, the gold one there, is for your apartment unit, which is on the third floor. Feel free to make a copy but let me know if you do! There’s a laundry room in the basement so you don’t have to go to a laundromat, and if you need anything please let me know!” Ms. Paint finished her spiel with another wide smile.

John and Dave took their keys, thanked her, and made for the elevator. “She’s really nice. Kinda energetic, but nice,” Dave commented. The elevator carried them up to their – _Dave’s_ , John reminded himself again – apartment unit, which John vaguely remembered from their tour.

Dave dropped his suitcase in the middle of the floor and immediately collapsed on the couch. “Officially moved in!” He announced. John set his own suitcase down and went over to inspect the kitchen. They had a refrigerator, a dishwasher, and a microwave, along with an oven and stove, and quite a bit of cabinet space. However, there was no food.

“We might want to go grocery shopping before this winter storm sets in,” he commented. “Wouldn’t wanna get snowed in.”

“And we should also get a TV because how else am I gonna hook up your Wii and kick your ass at Mario Kart?” Dave grinned.

“Hey, it’s your apartment, dude, you can furnish however you want,” John laughed.

“Sheets and towels might also be a good idea,” Dave decided. “Wow, it’s really inconvenient that all my shit is still on its way north.”

“I believe it,” John agreed.

They came back two hours later with a TV and a cheap stand, some meager groceries that mostly involved bread and canned goods, and a pack of soft grey jersey bedsheets because Dave had insisted that if he was going to buy new bedsheets, he was going to get awesome ones. Dave set to making dinner – canned chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese using pans and dishes borrowed from Ms. Paint – while John made the bed and set up the TV stand. It struck John as incredibly domestic, and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Dave every now and again. He seemed happy, despite having started the morning with setting John’s house on fire.

The rest of the evening passed fairly uneventfully; Dave set up the Wii and they played a few rounds of Super Smash Brothers. The snow had begun to come down quicker than either of them had anticipated, and John called Equius to give him the day off; he’d work at the shop himself tomorrow, provided he could physically make it there given the weather, but if he couldn’t make it in, it wasn’t a huge deal.

The issue came, however, as soon as it came time to go to sleep.

“Well, I only have one bed,” Dave said, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the bedroom. It wasn’t small, but it was certainly more crowded than John’s was at home.

“I can sleep on the couch,” John offered. The couch had come with the apartment and while it wasn’t the most comfortable of seating arrangements, John could make do.

“Nonsense, that thing is fucking ancient and who knows who has done what on that couch,” Dave insisted. “We’re grown adults, dude, we can share a bed.”

John considered this. It wasn’t as though he and Dave hadn’t slept in the same bed before. Hell, John had cuddled him to sleep more times than he could remember. But it had always been when Dave had been emotionally vulnerable and in need of another human being’s presence. It was somehow different than now, and he didn’t realize how much of this was related to his new realizations regarding his best friend.

“I suppose you’re right,” John said, although suddenly he didn’t feel tired in the slightest. He retreated into the bathroom to brush his teeth while Dave changed into pajama pants, and as he burrowed under the covers, he suddenly became aware of how close he was to Dave’s bare skin. The air felt static and warm, much too warm, despite being the near dead of winter.

John felt his heart racing as he lay in the dark. Not four inches away, Dave lay beside him, eyes closed and breathing steady. It frightened John how easy it would be to reach out and touch him – but no, that wouldn’t be right, not now, it would be too much. So John kept his hands to himself and instead imagined.

In a different world, a world where he was braver, he would roll over and press himself against Dave’s bare back and plant slow long kisses to the back of his neck and along his freckled shoulders. His hands would trail along Dave’s sides, tracing every bit of skin he could reach beneath his fingertips. In this world, Dave would lean back against him and sigh into his touch, lips parted and aching to be kissed.

But that was a different world. In John’s world, he was wide awake and very hard.

 _Think unsexy thoughts, Egbert_ , he instructed himself firmly. _Think about the joke shop, think about Nanna, literally think about anything else._ He got up to go to the bathroom for a glass of water, trying to ignore the friction against his boxers. As he drank, cold water spilled over his lips and down onto his old sleep shirt. John made a face at himself in the mirror. _Pull yourself together_ , he whispered to his reflection. If this was how staying at Dave’s apartment would be, he was in for a lot of sleepless nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer to update than expected! Now we can all collectively hold John's face and tell him that he is bisexual as HECK, just in case he or anyone else was doubting it.  
> ALSO???? 10k hits??? Thank all of you so so so much for your continued support of this fic, it gets me all emotional just thinking about it! I love all of you, I probably would have abandoned this story like 10 chapters ago if not for all of your continued love and encouragement!! Y'all are the real MVP for making it this far.  
> Also, just to remind y'all, I have a [tumblr](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) if you wanna interact with me at all. <3


	34. Merry Christmas, Darling

Sometimes, life was just _so sweet_.

John Egbert contemplated this particular thought. There must be small bursts of time on this earth where the planets aligned and the stars were all in position to create absolutely the perfect moment. And for John, this moment was it. This moment was one of those moments that made him wish that the Pensieve from Harry Potter was actually real because he wanted to be able to go back and revisit this memory for years and years to come. There was, in his opinion, nothing quite like watching a fat, wet snowball fly through the air, its trajectory a perfect and beautiful arc, and seeing it land _directly in the face of its target_.

Dave staggered backwards with a yelp and a splutter. “Yo, what the fuck!” he yelled, seeking cover behind his two-foot-high makeshift wall of snow. His normally tan cheeks were bright pink in the cold, and the borrowed green wool beanie on his head was falling off to one side.

John had to catch his breath and stop himself from laughing. The salty tears of mirth that pricked the corners of his eyes threatened to freeze on his cheeks. “Bullseye!” he called happily from behind his own shield, fist pumping the air.

“I’m gonna get you for that one,” Dave promised loudly, packing more snow in his gloves and launching it over. It whizzed past John’s head.

“You missed!” he taunted, sending his own frozen projectile towards Dave. It grazed his shoulder.

John had been aghast to learn that Dave had never been in a snowball fight. He supposed that was to be expected, with Dave growing up in Texas and all, but it hadn’t stopped him from insisting that they have one. Seattle had been absolutely wracked with winter storms, to the point where John wasn’t even able to get his car out of the apartment’s parking lot. The grounds of Dave’s apartment complex suffocated beneath eighteen inches of glittering white snow, and the snowplows were too preoccupied with clearing the highways to get through the neighborhoods. Equius had been able to pick up shifts at the shop, and John’s dad had offered to help in a pinch, which had made John eternally grateful. Upon realizing that they might be snowed in for a few days, John insisted that they make the most of it.

The winter sun was high in the sky, peeking through a sheer grey cloud cover. In the apartment buildings above, tenants poked their heads out of windows for a few moments before withdrawing again inside. A few briefly regarded John’s and Dave’s snowball fight with amusement, although they remained the only ones outside. This was probably a good thing, because the last thing John wanted was to accidentally bean one of Dave’s neighbors with a snowball. However, his aim was much better than Dave’s.

“Ugh!” Dave shouted as yet another snowball sailed a foot over John’s head. “That does it!” He leaned down and began scooping snow into his arms.

“What are you doing?” John teased, before realizing that Dave was charging him. John shrieked and began pummeling Dave with snowball after snowball, though his barrage was frantic enough to make his aim a little off. Dave, not having been deterred at all, continued to advance on John, grinning as he let out a war cry.

“For Narnia!” Dave yelled, finally reaching John and full-body tackling him to the ground, dropping a full armload of snow onto his face. John squawked indignantly, pawing snow out of his eyes and looking up at Dave, who, for a very brief moment, had landed on top of him, his knee right between John’s legs and his arms boxing John in, effectively pinning him to the ground. John became aware of his heavy breathing as he held eye contact with Dave’s bright red irises. Dave smiled warmly down at him before rolling off and ending up lying next to John, facing the sky.

“Snowball fights are fuckin’ _awesome_ ,” Dave panted, slightly winded from rushing John. The cold and the exertion had flushed his cheeks, and John was transfixed. It would take _so little effort_ to just lean over and kiss him. All he had to do was roll over and Dave’s mouth would be _right there_ and –

_Stop it_ , he told himself firmly, like he usually did when such invasive thoughts pushed their way into his brain. This was not the time or the place. The time and the place would come, he promised himself, and until then he needed to be content simply with pretending not to watch Dave’s lips while he spoke.

He was distracted by the rumble of his own stomach.

“Wanna go make grilled cheese?”

“You know I do,” Dave grinned. He groaned exaggeratedly while getting up, and once he was standing over John he reached out a hand to help him up.

“God, you’re heavy, did you eat bricks for breakfast?” Dave complained as he hoisted John to his feet.

“They’re nutritious,” John retorted, brushing snow off of his back. He realized Dave was looking at him strangely. “What?”

“Nothing, I just… we should take a selfie or something. Commemorate this moment,” Dave suggested. His freckled cheeks were pink in the December wind.

“Let’s do it!” John agreed. Dave pulled his phone out with one hand and threw an arm around John with the other. Even through layers of sweaters and coats, John could feel how warm Dave was.

“Got it,” Dave grinned. “Now, about that grilled cheese.”

“Race you back inside,” John laughed, pushing Dave playfully and bolting for the door.

~

The winter holiday season was always one of the biggest sale periods for Prankster’s Gambit, so John found himself in the shop more frequently than he had been used to over the last few months. His store opened earlier and stayed open later, and it was frequently dark by the time he left. He also drove his car more than he was used to doing, since there wasn’t a bus stop conveniently located near Dave’s apartment complex.

He returned to the complex, inwardly sighing as he realized he would have to park far away from the door again, since most of the closer spots had already been taken. John trudged through the parking lot and into the front door of the lobby, stomping snow off of his boots as he ducked in from the swirling wind. It had continued to snow, but there had been no more monstrous snow storms, and these flakes blanketed the already existing snowdrifts and made everything seem cleaner and more pure.

John traipsed up the stairs to the apartment, keys fumbling in his thawing fingers. To his surprise, Dave was waiting for him at the kitchen table with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa.

“Mmmm,” John exhaled, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Figured I might as well welcome you home,” Dave said. “It’s cold out there.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” John grumbled, sloughing his coat off and prying his feet out of his wet boots.

“Are you sure you have to work late on Christmas Eve?” Dave asked for the third time that week. John slumped into his chair and brought a mug to his mouth, blowing gently. Dave dropped four marshmallows into his own.

“Yeah,” John sighed. “We usually stay open until one or so in the morning. Parents tend to come in last-minute for stocking stuffers, so we make a point to be open.”

“I guess that makes sense, but it still kinda sucks,” Dave said sympathetically. “Needs more Schnapps,” he added, frowning at his drink. John laughed and sipped at his cocoa. It burned his lips.

“You’ve asked me about working on Christmas a few times already. What gives?” he asked. Dave looked down into his mug.

“’S nothing, I just…” he trailed off. John frowned. Dave’s mood had been pretty upbeat since he had permanently come back from Texas, but occasionally John caught him spacing out, especially since he hadn’t taken any more photography gigs since coming back. Dave’s glazy stare was a vast improvement to crying in the middle of the night, but it still put John on edge.

“What’s wrong?” John asked, concerned.

Dave looked up at him. “It’s just that… this will be my first Christmas without Terezi, I guess. Or really anyone.” His voice wobbled a little, and John’s heart broke.

“If you want, you can come keep me company at the store,” John told him. “And I’ll be home for all of Christmas day, that I can promise you.” He reached across the table to put his hand on Dave’s. “I don’t want you to have to be alone.”

“I mean, is it okay if I come to the store?” Dave asked. “I don’t want to be a burden, I’m not even an employee.”

“I own the store, I make the rules,” John said firmly. “You’re never a burden to me, okay?”

Dave nodded, looking somewhat less troubled. He then perked up slightly. “Oh, and remember, Rose and Kanaya invited us over on Christmas Day for dinner. Kanaya’s making a bunch of _sufganiyot_ and Rose never shuts up about them around this time of year and I’ve never had a chance to try one.”

John had no idea what that was, but it sounded delicious, and he had no problems with not cooking a fancy meal on Christmas. Their tiny kitchen wouldn’t have accommodated many pots and pans anyway. John watched Dave stare out the window at the steadily falling snowflakes, knowing full well that Dave’s subject change had been very much on purpose. He made a resolve to be extra attentive to Dave in the next week.

~

Christmas Day finally came, and John woke up in bed next to Dave, as he had become accustomed to doing. He blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled himself laboriously out of bed to traipse to the kitchen to make hot cocoa. The air in the apartment was a little chilly, as seemed to be the case in their apartment, and he rubbed his bare arms with his hands to warm them up. Fresh snow had fallen last night, he realized with a giddy jolt in his stomach. Even though he was twenty-six, he still felt so much childlike glee around the Christmas holiday. He and Dave and strung Christmas lights all around their apartment and adorned their wall spaces with wreathes. John had insisted upon a tiny plastic tree for their living room, although neither of them had any Christmas ornaments, since Dave’s were still en route from Texas and John’s were still in his soot-stained house across town. They had compensated with some cheap plastic gold-and-silver tinsel from Walmart and called it good. However, they lacked a fireplace, so they had nowhere to hang stockings, even if they had had stockings to hang. All in all, their apartment was as festive as it could have been given their situation, and it made John smile.

As he stirred cocoa packets into two mugs of hot milk, Dave emerged from the bedroom, hair ruffled and squinty-eyed.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” John said fondly, dropping marshmallows into Dave’s mug and handing it to him.

“Merry Christmas,” Dave said blearily. “Why are you up so early? Come back to bed, it’s warm.”

John blushed. Dave was half-asleep still and probably didn’t know what he was saying.

“It’s 10:30 and I told my dad we’d be there at noon,” John reminded him. He and Dave were going to go visit John’s dad for Christmas lunch before going to Rose and Kanaya’s for dinner. Christmas lunch would inevitably involve cake of some kind, and John swore up and down that his dad’s cakes were the best in the Seattle area.

Dave grunted in assent and shuffled back towards the bathroom to hop into the shower, and John took this time to wrap Dave’s present.

He pulled the lease to the photography studio out from under a pile of clothes in his dresser. He had been pretty sneaky about hiding it from Dave, he felt, though it had been a bitch and a half to keep to himself. Dave was getting bored again, John could tell, and outdoor photoshoots were hard when the Washington weather was so unpredictable. He just hoped it wasn’t too big of a gesture.

They had decided to do gifts at Rose and Kanaya’s, and despite both of their initial adamant refusal to accept any presents from one another, they both admitted that they were going to get each other something anyway, and the matter was dropped.

John pulled a sheet of wrapping paper out from under the bed and quickly wrapped the bundle of pages. He had just finished hiding his materials again when Dave emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, looking much more awake than he had before.

“Shower quick, nerd, or we’re gonna be late,” Dave grinned, combing his fingers through his wet hair. John tried really hard not to stare at his freckled chest as he passed Dave on his way to the bathroom.

An hour later, they were pulling out of the parking lot on their way to John’s dad’s house. As John had suspected, there was plenty of cake, and all of John’s cousins were there as well. Jane was happy as ever to see Dave, and John got to mingle with his family for a while.

John’s dad tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” he asked in a low voice.

“Sure, Dad, what’s up?” John asked, immediately somewhat worried.

“Over here,” Dad said, jerking his head off to the side. John followed him.

“So what’s the deal with you and Dave?” Dad asked when they were a little more separated from anyone else.

“I don’t know what you mean,” John spluttered, his heartrate immediately increasing. He was not anticipating this conversation with his father of all people, and _especially_ not on Christmas.

“You’re still living together, aren’t you?” Dad prompted. John nodded mutely. Dad smiled somewhat awkwardly.

“Look, I don’t know how much of anything works these days, and I’m a little behind the times, but I guess I just wanna say that whatever the situation is between you two, I fully support it,” Dad said.

John flushed bright red. “Dad, no, we’re not… we’re not _together_ , per se, we just…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Dad reassured him. “Just wanted to let you know that it’s totally okay to talk to me about anything and I’m not going to judge you, and I’m so so proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” John mumbled, horribly embarrassed. He supposed he would much rather have _this_ circumstance than another more disapproving one, but still… _Christmas_? Really? He returned to where Dave was standing, his face burning.

“What was that all about? You look like a tomato,” Dave commented between bites of cake.

“’S nothing,” John muttered. “Just a little family discussion.”

“Suit yourself, you weirdo,” Dave shrugged, shoving more cake into his mouth. “This is really fuckin’ good, by the way. Your dad should have had a bakery instead of a joke shop.”

“You should tell him that,” John grinned. “He’ll try to adopt you. You’ll be the favorite son.”

“ _Shit_ yes,” Dave exhaled, fist-pumping the air.

They stayed at Dad’s house for a few more hours before excusing themselves to drive out to Tacoma. John hugged all of his cousins, and to his surprise, so did Dave.

“I like your family a lot,” Dave commented as they walked out to John’s car. “They got a way of makin’ a guy feel at home.”

“They’re good like that,” John smiled.

The drive over to Rose and Kanaya’s was a short one, and their entrance into the house was immediately greeted with earthy Mediterranean smells. Rose met them at the door wearing a large chunky Christmas sweater, and she wore tiny Christmas bauble earrings.

“Merry Christmas,” she said happily, hugging them both. “Dinner is ready in just a little bit.”

“What is it?” John wondered aloud. “It smells amazing!”

“I am making matzah ball soup,” Kanaya called from the kitchen. “And there is a capon about to come out of the oven.”

“Happy Hanukkah, Kanaya,” Dave called to her. She immediately came running out of the kitchen, wearing an equally chunky sweater with a menorah on the front. John suspected Rose was behind their festive garments.

“So this is Dave,” Kanaya said happily. “Pleasure to finally meet you in person.” She shook Dave’s hand welcomingly.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Dave said politely. John hadn’t realized that the two of them had never met in person before, although it made sense since Dave had been in Texas up until this summer.

“Is there anything we can help with?” John asked Kanaya.

“No, I have it under control. Besides, everything is being cooked according to kosher and there are a lot of pots and pans in there and it is somewhat complicated to explain to someone who did not grow up keeping kosher,” Kanaya explained. “But thank you very much for the offer.”

“Wow, do you always keep kosher?” Dave asked.

“We don’t eat much meat here,” Rose answered. “Kanaya pretty much only eats it on holidays because it’s kind of a hassle, and when I bring meat home I make sure it’s kosher. Restaurants are a different story though,” Rose grinned.

“Looks like you’ve got a pretty good setup here,” John observed, moving into the living room. Rose had outdone herself with her Christmas tree, which looked to be real by the pine needles that littered the ground beneath it. Blue and white tinsel was strung around its branches, with Christmas baubles and even a few ornaments that looked like stars of David strewn about. A six-point star adorned the top, and John noticed a Hanukkah menorah on one of the end tables.

“We sort of like to mash up our holidays,” Rose laughed. “We just take the traditions we like and go with it.”

“Makes sense,” Dave nodded. John dropped the presents they had bought beneath the Christmas tree.

Kanaya turned out to be an amazing cook, and when she brought out a platter of homemade jelly doughnuts which, it was explained to him, were called _sufganiyot_ , John could have kissed her, they were so good.

He was still sucking jelly off of his fingers when Rose announced that it was time to open presents. The four of them gathered in the living room, and Dave offered to play Santa. The first round of gifts was distributed, and John and Dave were thrilled to unwrap giant knit sweaters from Rose and Kanaya. John’s featured a reindeer with a bright red nose and Dave’s was an absolute monstrosity of a discolored Santa Claus, complete with gaudy LED lights. “It’s beautiful,” Dave whispered, admiring it before pulling it on over the other sweater he was wearing.

“We decided to get you a joint gift for your joint house,” John explained as Kanaya opened their gift, which was a giftcard for an upscale interior design store. Kanaya squealed excitedly and Rose smiled widely.

“This is amazing! We’ve been needing new curtains,” she explained to John, who was somewhat bemused. “I complained about it to Dave a lot during our stay in Texas, and so here we are.”

Hugs were exchanged all around, and Dave distributed the rest of the presents. John made eye contact with Kanaya and to his surprise, she looked like she was about to vomit. _Holy shit_. John was pretty sure he knew what was in the tiny box marked for Rose.

Kanaya opened her present from Rose first and gasped as she pulled out what looked like a tiny golden heart on a long think chain.

“Look inside it,” Rose said, eyes smiling almost as wide as her mouth was. John realized that the charm was a locket. Kanaya beamed as she fiddled with the clasp, but she suddenly shrieked and dropped the necklace as both of her hands flew in front of her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Dave shouted. Kanaya pointed wordlessly at the locket; Dave picked it up and said, “Wow,” before showing it to John.

In tiny gold lettering was inscribed _marry me?_ inside one half of a locket, and a picture of the two of them was slipped into the other half.

John burst out laughing. “This is wonderful!”

“I know it’s not a… _traditional_ proposal, but… what do you say?” Rose asked, somewhat nervously.

“I think that you should open your present,” Kanaya said in a small voice.

Rose’s brow furrowed ever so slightly before she tore the wrapping paper off of the tiny box in her hands. She opened it and began to chuckle before showing it off to the rest of the room. A ring set with a small diamond in the middle, with “will you marry me?” in script along the top of the box. The ring wasn’t too elaborate, wrought from silver in the shape of a knot with the diamond nestled in the middle, but it was smooth and streamlined and elegant in a way that seemed to fit Rose perfectly.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Rose said, and Kanaya stood to hug her. She was somewhat taller than Rose, who stood on tiptoes to kiss her. John could see tears pricking the corners of Kanaya’s eyes. Dave was grinning next to him, speechless for once in his life.

“See, I told you she’d say yes!” John said jovially once the happy couple broke apart. Kanaya wiped the tears out of her eyes and began to laugh.

“You knew about this?” screeched Rose and Dave in unison.

“I couldn’t spoil that kind of a surprise!” John protested.

“Yeah, but you could’ve told _me_!” Dave howled.

“You were with Rose! Could you have kept it a secret?” John asked, punching him in the shoulder.

“Not if his life had depended on it,” Rose laughed, not once taking her eyes off of her new fiancée. “Wow, I just can’t believe this is actually happening.” Kanaya simply leaned over and kissed her again. John sighed happily.

“You guys are gonna have so much sex later, aren’t you?” Dave grinned.

“Don’t be vulgar,” Rose said, wadding up a ball of wrapping paper and throwing it at him. It hit him in the shoulder. “Why don’t you open your presents?” She leaned over to kiss Kanaya’s cheek; Kanaya was still blushing and seemed speechless.

“Okay, but I have no idea how I’m gonna top that,” John laughed. “I didn’t propose to you, Dave, so you can stop crossing your fingers for a ring anytime now.”

“Aww, but we just moved in together and everything,” Dave pouted sarcastically, ripping the ribbon off of John’s present. He bent and shook the package.

“Feels kinda wobbly,” Dave remarked. “Is this a book? You know I don’t know how to read.”

“You’re such a dork,” John laughed. “Just open it.”

“Fine,” Dave ceded. “Pushy,” he muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” John said, sticking his tongue out.

Dave unwrapped the stack of paper, bound with a binder clip. His brow furrowed for a few moments before his eyes widened.

“Is this… This isn’t what I think it is, is it?” Dave asked in a hushed voice. “This is that empty photo studio that’s a few blocks from Prankster’s Gambit, isn’t it? I’ve been looking at that property for _months_ , I thought it was rented out a few weeks ag – _oh,_ ” Dave said, struck with the realization.

“I put down a down payment on a three-year lease,” John told him. It’s technically under my name, but I know the realtor who was trying to sell it, and as it so happens, family favors can go a long way. He bent some rules and it’s all yours now.”

“This is incredible,” Dave said, staring over the lease. “I need proper gear, though, I need backdrops and wireless and _holy shit_ I can’t believe this is real!” He stood up and pulled John close into a breathless hug. John heard a faint sniff, probably inaudible to both Rose and Kanaya. “Merry Christmas,” John said softly into Dave’s ear. Dave squeezed him even harder, and John laughed happily into his shoulder.

The hug ended far too soon in John’s opinion, although being in the presence of Rose and Kanaya would have made any longer of a hug somewhat uncomfortable. They pulled apart, and Dave jerked his head towards John’s gift, sitting inside a red-and-green gift bag with a festive penguin on the front. “Your turn.”

“Nice wrapping job,” John commented, eyebrows raised.

“Walmart’s best,” Dave grinned. “Now come on, open it or I’ll open it for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” John pouted. Still, he reached into the bag and pulled out… a photo album.

“Dave… what is this?” John asked, a smile spreading across his face.

“Open it,” Dave said, his voice sounding strangely tender. John did.

And he was greeted with more photographs of himself. Not all were professionally done. He flipped through and found a phone-quality photo of him hugging Rose at the airport. There were a few selfies that John had taken with Dave’s expensive camera equipment. There were warm-up test shots for when Dave was about to go to a photo shoot. There were pictures from John’s dad’s retirement party of him talking to his family and friends, including a really cute one of him crouching down and playing with Becquerel.

John felt himself tearing up. “These are… I don’t even have words,” he heard himself say.

“Flip to the last page,” Dave encouraged.

John did. On the last page, there was the selfie that he and Dave had taken the other day in the snow. They both looked so happy and breathless, cheeks pink and smiles wide. Scrawled beneath it in a familiar red pen with familiar handwriting was a short inscription.

_To my inspiration to go on.  
\-- For J. Love, D.S._

John clapped a hand over his mouth.

“D’you like?” Dave asked, sounding somewhat nervous. John nodded wordlessly.

“I wanna see,” Rose said, making John jump slightly; he’d forgotten she and Kanaya were there. He handed the photo album over for her and Kanaya to comb through.

“Thank you,” John said quietly to Dave, nudging Dave’s foot with his own. Dave nudged him back.

After much laud and praise from Rose and Kanaya, and after John and Dave stayed to watch Kanaya light the next menorah candle, they left Tacoma so as to get back to Seattle before it got too dark. It was fairly late when they pulled into the parking lot.

“Tomorrow I’m going to start making arrangements for the studio,” Dave decided as they were getting ready for bed.

“Well, if you need any help, I’ll be available. I took a few days off at the joke shop because the last week was so hectic,” John told him.

“Perfect. I’m going to drag you into equipment hell with me,” Dave laughed.

They climbed into bed and were silent for a while, but John wasn’t tired. Boldly, he rolled over so that his face was only a few inches from Dave.

“Thank you for the photo album,” John told him again. “And for the message on the back.”

“I literally owe you my life,” Dave said, quite clearly half asleep but still conscious enough for a conversation. “Plus, I like taking pictures of you. You’re one of my cuter subjects.”

John’s heart stopped for a brief second and his breath caught in his chest. “You think I’m cute?”

“Yeah, man,” Dave murmured, eyes closed. “Now go to sleep, m’tired.”

John rolled back over with a huge grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your dose of holiday fluff, brought to you in the middle of July because I have no sense of pacing. Also, this chapter was an absolute behemoth so sorry it took so long to update!  
> Some notes! I am not Jewish, although I have a friend whose family grew up celebrating both Christmas and Hanukkah, so if any of my Hanukkah descriptions are off, I apologize and will fix anything necessary!  
> ALSO!! [HCCM FANART](http://keramoondust.tumblr.com/post/124313414268/alright-guys-this-marks-the-last-one-ill-draw)!! Based off of the events of [Chapter 18](http://archiveofourown.org/works/865120/chapters/1825608) by tumblr user [keramoondust](http://keramoondust.tumblr.com/). It's absolutely incredible, thank you so so so much!!  
> Again, for anyone that forgot, I have a [tumblr](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com/) if you ever wanna interact with me about HCCM or anything really!! I love you all!!


	35. equipment shopping and chill? ;)

John stared at the display of lenses in horror.

“Photo equipment is fucking _expensive_ ,” he whined, picking up a box containing a DSLR fisheye lens and brandishing it at Dave. “This thing is like three hundred dollars.”

“Welcome to my world,” Dave sighed. “Be careful with that,” he added, taking the box carefully from John and putting it into the shopping cart. When Dave had said equipment hell, John hadn’t realized just how literal he was being. The photography supply store was warehouse-sized; the particular vendor that Dave had liked had only an outlet in Seattle, though it was headquartered in Portland. Thus, they’d driven the three and a half hours to Oregon and were now perusing aisle after aisle of lenses, reflectors, and countless other accessories that John had no idea were necessary for a photography studio.

“Do you really need like four different flashes?” John asked, sighing as Dave loaded almost eight hundred dollars’ worth of merchandise into the cart.

“Well… no,” Dave admitted. “But it makes it more fun, and it means I can charge more for photo shoots, because the equipment is new and top of the line.”

“How are you affording all this, anyway?” John asked. “You haven’t worked in like two months.”

“Y’know, there are perks to having a brother who runs a few… shall we say… less than tasteful websites as a hobby. Do you know how much people pay for niche pornography?” Dave grinned.

“Ew, seriously?” John laughed. He had met Dirk very briefly at Dave’s wedding a few years ago, and nothing about the man had screamed ‘porn director.’

“Gotta make a living somehow,” Dave said with a snicker. John couldn’t help but laugh along. They picked out a few light stands, and John screamed internally when he checked the price tag on a softbox that Dave picked out. By the time they made it to the front of the store, John was fairly certain that all of the equipment in the cart cost more than what he made in half a year. Dave cringed a little bit before he swiped his card, but they left the store with all of their purchases.

Getting everything into the car was like a particularly stressful game of Tetris, since a lot of the equipment was fairly fragile and John’s trunk was only so big. Everything managed to fit somehow, although the car definitely seemed a lot heavier as they began the trek back to Seattle.

John was a fan of road trips, although he hadn’t really had an occasion to go on many. When he was younger, he and his dad had gone camping in northern Idaho, and although there was no doubt in John’s mind that he was a city boy through and through, he had loved driving through unending forests, the smell of pine permeating the car windows, lulling him to sleep until his dad shook him awake when they had reached their campsite. John found himself sharing these thoughts aloud to Dave.

“I’ve never been camping,” Dave admitted once John had finished talking.

“What? It’s amazing. We’re gonna go camping sometime, okay?” John said excitedly. “Maybe when it’s not so cold. Maybe sometime this summer.”

“Okay, but if we get eaten by bears I am going to be displeased with you,” Dave promised.

“We’re not gonna get eaten by bears, jeez,” John laughed, socking Dave lightly in the arm.

“Can I say something that might be kinda uncomfortable?” Dave asked.

John nodded, but his mind was already going through the five stages of grief. _This is it, this is the end, everything’s going to be awkward and terrible_.

“I think I feel more comfortable with you than I ever did with Terezi,” Dave admitted. John immediately felt like he’d swallowed a swarm of butterflies. “I mean, yeah, I loved her and all, but she’s the least chill person I’ve ever met and getting her to sit still long enough to drive three hours from Seattle to Portland would have been impossible. It’s just kinda nice that I can spend time with you and it doesn’t have to be productive and we can actually talk.”

“I’m glad you feel that way around me,” John said, acutely aware of how hot his cheeks were. “I feel the same way. I mean, obviously I never was married, but I definitely feel closer to you than anyone I’ve ever dated. Like Vriska, for example.”

“What do you mean?” Dave asked. He and Dave had talked about Vriska briefly before, but as a general rule they’d avoided discussing past relationships in general, as John was afraid it might send Dave down some dark path.

“Well, she moved in with me like two weeks after we started dating, and whenever I had free time I was pretty much just spending time with her. And it was fun, I guess, listening to her talk. She had so much cool shit to say about everything but we never really had heart-to-hearts or anything. And thinking about it, we didn’t really have that much in common,” John explained, brow furrowing.

“Well, you and I don’t really have that much in common either,” Dave pointed out. “You had a pretty set path right after you graduated college, and we all know how much of a shambles my life is. You’re into movies and video games and I like photography and making music.”

“Yeah, but at least we talk to each other about the stuff we like. And I dunno about you, but I actually care a lot when you talk about your photography,” John countered.

“I do like listening to you ramble about movie plots and go into character analyses,” Dave agreed.

“Basically I know a lot more about who you are as a person than I ever knew about Vriska,” John summarized.

“You might know more about who I am as a person than Terezi did,” Dave confessed. “I mean, we used to be pretty close, obviously. But that was high school, and I guess kind of college. But hell, John, we’re in our late 20s. I haven’t had a chance to figure out who I really am because I was trying to be someone that Terezi could love, and you’ve done a hell of a lot better job helping me figure out myself than she could have done.”

John smiled. “That means a lot,” he told Dave honestly. “It’s kinda hard for me to fathom dating someone for so long and not even knowing that much about them, though.”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Dave agreed. “Terezi didn’t even know I’m bisexual. She would have flipped out.”

John almost choked. He remembered Rose making a similar comment in passing, but somehow he didn’t anticipate Dave being so _blunt_ about it. Dave noticed John’s expression and laughed.

“That’s kinda what Roxy’s face looked like when I told her,” he grinned. “Not like she was _too_ surprised, though, Rose was already out of the closet with rainbow flags flying, and Dirk’s been living with his male college roommate since they graduated and anytime anyone makes a comment he just says he doesn’t like labels.”

“This might be kind of a dumb question, but like… how did you _know_?” John asked. “Like, were you already dating Terezi?”

“Oh god yeah,” Dave said. “It was in college and I guess one morning I just woke up and realized that I’d totally bone my roommate and that was kinda the extent of that. But it didn’t even really matter because I had my girlfriend, and I was pretty convinced we’d end up together, so there was really no point in ‘exploring my sexuality.’” He put the last phrase in finger quotes.

John wished that his own experiences were that simple. “Do you ever wish you had?” he asked. “Like, if you and Terezi had broken up?”

“Well, I almost did,” Dave admitted. “There was one time junior year when Terezi and I had a real bad fight and I went out drinking with some friends, and we ended up outside a gay bar, and I was _this close_ to goin’ in and seein’ what it was about, but then Rose called me and I ended up talking to her on the phone for four hours about Terezi and about me being bi and I _know_ that if I was more sober Rose would have given me so much shit about it. So it was kinda our little sibling secret. She wanted me to tell Terezi, though, but I didn’t see the point.”

“That makes sense, though,” John reasoned. “It sucks to feel like you can’t talk about stuff with the person you’re dating without feeling like they’re going to freak out.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Dave said. “Good thing you and I are talkin’ about all of this now.”

“True, but we’re not dating,” John pointed out, laughing outwardly and hoping that Dave didn’t notice the blush creeping up his neck.

“You’re right, but we’re roommates and that’s basically the same thing,” Dave joked. John laughed, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

When they got back to Seattle, Dave requested that they make a quick stop by the studio so that they could drop off all of the equipment, since the building had much sturdier locks than the ones on John’s car. They took turns hefting armfuls of stands and lights into the door, and once it was all done, Dave looked sideways at John and grinned. “Next, you get to help me set it all up.”

“Not on your life, dude, I gotta go back to work,” John snorted.

“Yeah, but next time you’ve got a day off, a guy could use some help,” Dave said.

“I make no promises,” John smirked, sticking his tongue out. Dave nudged him with his shoulder, and John nudged back. It devolved quickly into them pushing one another, and they both broke out laughing.

When they finally got back home, the sun had set. Dave collapsed onto the couch almost immediately after taking his shoes off. “Hey,” he called to John, who had gone into the kitchen to get a beer.

“What?” John asked, poking his head back into the living room.

“Netflix and chill?” Dave asked, waggling his eyebrows and gesturing towards the TV.

“Oh my god,” John rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I wanna actually watch whatever we’re gonna be watching.”

“What made you thinking I intended anything otherwise?” Dave asked sweetly, opening his arms.

“Because it’s Netflix and chill, Dave,” John laughed. “Now scooch over, you’re taking up the whole couch.”

“No, we have to snuggle, it’s literally how Netflix and chill works,” Dave insisted.

“Fine,” John grinned, collapsing on the couch and nuzzling into the crook of Dave’s arm. “What are we watching?”

“Can’t go wrong with Cupcake Wars,” Dave said, flipping through the Netflix screen until he found it. “Food Network shows are so intense, John.”

“Oh man, I know,” John said excitedly. “I’ve seen pretty much all of Chopped, that shit gets crazy.”

They spent a few hours like that snuggling, John being very aware of Dave’s fingers stroking his shoulder and upper arm and Dave seeming not to notice. The lines between roommates, friends, and _significantly more_ was becoming more and more blurred by the day, and it was beginning to be more and more comfortable for John.

When they finally went to bed with a comment from John that he needed to get up in the morning to go to work, they got into bed like any other night, but that night John decided he was going to try to push that ‘more-than-friends’ envelope. Looking back, he wouldn’t have been able to say why he decided to snake an arm around Dave’s bare chest as they lay in the dark, but his boldness was rewarded with a soft satisfied noise from Dave’s throat, and with Dave clasping John’s fingers with his own. They fell asleep like that, John’s nose buried between Dave’s shoulder blades, breathing in tandem.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand the johndave commences. B)
> 
> Also, more [HCCM fanart](http://pieofpie.tumblr.com/post/125503115537/it-is-based-on-the-fic-his-camera-captures-moments) by tumblr user [pieofpie](http://pieofpie.tumblr.com/)!! It really warms my heart that you guys like this fic enough to create stuff for it, and I cannot thank all of you enough!! I love you all so so so very much! Sorry this chapter is a little shorter but I promise I am still updating <3


	36. In Which Dave Cooks A Mean Steak

This wasn’t the first time in John Egbert’s twenty-six years that he’d woken up with a boner.

It wasn’t even the first time he’d woken up with a boner while sharing a bed with someone.

That didn’t make it any less startling, though, when he woke up feeling very aware that the stiffness between his legs was pressing pleasantly and warmly against the back of Dave’s thigh.

He vaguely remembered falling asleep while spooning Dave the night before and the thought made him sigh imperceptibly. Dave remained asleep, with his fingers still curled limply around John’s, and John didn’t want to risk waking him up and alerting him to the… situation.

Gingerly, John attempted to extricate his fingers from Dave’s. To his surprise and intense embarrassment, Dave grunted softly in protest and tightened his grip on John’s hand. John hadn’t expected him to be awake, or at least conscious.

Experimentally, John inched his hips away from Dave, half-aching at the sudden space between their bodies. He had half a mind to abscond to the bathroom and take care of himself when he heard Dave mumble into his pillow, “No, come back, my legs are cold.”

John’s face burned. He had two options; comply with Dave’s request and almost certainly embarrass himself further by pushing his rapidly stiffening boner against Dave’s backside, or pretend he hadn’t heard Dave and _leave, just leave, go take a shower and jack off and act like nothing happened_. He was leaning heavily towards the latter when Dave stretched suddenly. John watched his bare upper torso unfold and extend, watched the thin light from the blinds creep over his alabaster skin, and before he could do anything to stop it, Dave pulled the covers closer to himself and snuggled into John, practically wedging John’s unfortunate hard-on in between their bodies.

John could have _died._ There was no conceivable way that Dave didn’t notice the mortifying shudder of relief that he gave upon renewed contact with Dave’s skin. The only thing that stopped him from jerking away immediately was the knowledge that Dave knew, and Dave was cuddling against him anyway. So John stayed there, tense, not daring to move lest he interrupt the delicate balance of the situation.

Carefully, painstakingly, John placed his hand on Dave’s hip. When no objections arose, he pushed his luck again, spreading his fingers slowly and sliding his hand down the length of Dave’s thigh, then back up. He studied the side of Dave’s face scrupulously; though Dave was turned away from him, he was pretty sure Dave’s cheeks were spread in a wide, self-indulgent smile.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his heart thumping so hard he could feel it in his throat. Dave nodded slightly and sighed happily. It felt like tiny electric vibrations were coursing through John’s fingertips as his hand made the journey along Dave’s thigh again, although this time his hand kept going up Dave’s waist and around the front of his chest, pulling him close.

“Good morning to you, too,” Dave mused, voice raspy with sleep. His eyes remained closed, which was fortunate, because John was sure he was wearing the absolute dopiest smile.

“Wha’ time is it?” Dave asked, half-mumbling. John glanced over at the alarm clock. It read 5:28 – two minutes before the alarm was about to sound for John to go in to work. He groaned.

“Too early,” John responded, burrowing his face into the space between the pillow and the nape of Dave’s neck.

“Mmmmm…” Dave exhaled slowly. “Y’should jus’ stay here. Don’ go into work,” he slurred sleepily.

“Would that I could,” John grumbled. He let himself lay there, mesmerized by the rise and fall of Dave’s chest against his hands, until the angry alarm began to beep. John reached over Dave to hit the snooze button, and when he returned, Dave rolled onto his back to look up at him.

Even sleep-fogged, Dave’s eyes were breathtaking, and John found himself suddenly lost for words or even thoughts when Dave smiled up at him.

“Your hair’s all messy,” Dave said fondly, reaching up to run a gentle hand through John’s hair. The sensation sent frissons through his body, and his just-softened erection gave a small twitch.

John didn’t know how to respond. There were no words for the situation, for the expression on Dave’s face as he smiled dreamily up at John, for the way their legs were intertwined and their bodies were pressed together and the way John wanted to kiss him _so badly_. It wouldn’t be difficult. All John would have to do was lower his head to meet Dave’s lips, but he just couldn’t bring himself to inch his head any lower.

_Just do it_ , he urged himself. _What are you waiting for? When’s the next time you’ll have an opportunity like this? This is the moment, dumbass, and if you don’t do something soon you’re going to ruin it. Just kiss him!_

“You look very deep in thought,” Dave commented, breaking John out of his reverie. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Kissing you,” John blurted before he could stop himself. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

Dave started to laugh, and John’s first instinct was to be horrified, but the laughter didn’t sound mean. Instead it sounded… kind of pleased?

Dave’s chuckles subsided, and he looked wide-eyed up into John’s eyes. “What are you waiting for?” he asked.

“Uhhh,” said John. _Did he just say what I think he just said?_

“Uhhh nothin’, are you gonna kiss me or am I gonna have to do it myself?” Dave smirked.

John inhaled sharply and felt his head get a little dizzy. Suddenly everything was incredibly overwhelming and his face was _so close_ to Dave’s and Dave was actually inviting John to kiss him and _whoa Dave’s face is getting really close and—_

Dave’s lips brushed, feather-light, against his own, and John’s heart fluttered. The kiss was short and soft and as soon as Dave pulled away, John wanted to pull him back in.

“Wow,” he managed. “That’s… I mean… can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” Dave laughed, and John could feel Dave smiling when he dipped his head to kiss him again. He pressed his lips gently into Dave’s, breathing in the scent of his skin. He didn’t taste like much, but his mouth was warm and malleable against John’s, and his head was so clouded and so full of Dave that it didn’t even matter.

John’s alarm sounded again. John groaned in annoyance against Dave’s lips.

“I gotta go to work,” he grumbled. “I’ve barely been in since Christmas.”

“I see how it is,” Dave grinned, cocking an eyebrow at John. “Leaving me all alone in this bed and nothing to do but wait for you to get back.”

“You’ve got a photo studio to set up,” John retorted, sticking his tongue out in jest.

“You’re right,” Dave conceded. John rolled back to his side of the bed and pulled himself upright, then turned to look at Dave. In the ambient morning light, he took John’s breath away, and John suddenly felt very shy.

“What’re you looking at?” Dave asked, his eyes kind.

“You know damn well what I’m looking at,” John said under his breath, sorry to have to turn his back to Dave to get clothes out of the dresser.

He dressed in silence, although he could feel Dave’s gaze on him. Once he was ready for the day, he returned to the side of the bed where Dave still lay, admiring him in silence. John leaned over experimentally to place another kiss on Dave’s lips. Even the smallest, gentlest kiss was exhilarating, and he found himself wanting to stay, to throw his responsibility to the wind, and to lay next to Dave and to just _be._

“We should talk once you’re home from work,” Dave said softly. “We’ve both got a lot to think about today.”

“All good things, I’m sure,” John joked.

“The best things,” said Dave earnestly. John kissed him once more, savoring the feeling, before shouldering his coat and slipping out the front door.

~

When John got home from work, Dave wasn’t there.

On the table, however, was a note scrawled in Dave’s favorite red pen and full handwriting.

_Gone out to buy food. Text if you need anything._

_xo DS_

John stared at the ‘xo’ and his stomach somersaulted. The number of times he’d caught himself thinking about kissing Dave or his feelings for Dave was frankly embarrassing. It had been such a long time since John had felt this strongly towards anyone.

As if on cue, Dave tripped into the house, his arms loaded with grocery bags.

“Damn, did you buy the entire store?” John marveled as Dave dumped the bags unceremoniously on the tiny kitchen counter.

“I just felt like actually cooking again,” Dave said amiably. “Didn’t know whether you’d want steak or chicken so I decided to get both.”

“You’re ridiculous,” John smiled. “Want help with anything?”

“Yeah, can you start cutting up strawberries? I got them for a salad,” Dave said, pointing a finger in the general direction of the pile of bags. “I think they’re in there somewhere.”

“Strawberries aren’t really in season, are they?” John commented, digging through the produce to find them.

“No, but they’re pretty, so I got them,” Dave grinned. “Now get to work!”

“Aye aye,” John laughed, fishing around in the cupboards for a cutting board. They worked together, John assembling ingredients for easily the most complicated salad ever – “Seriously, what happened to just putting ranch dressing on lettuce and throwing on some carrots?” John asked, dodging when Dave jokingly kicked at him – and Dave made some complex steak rub that set John’s mouth watering within minutes after Dave threw the steaks into the frying pan.

“This is kinda fun,” John commented. “You should teach me how to cook.”

“It’s not that hard,” Dave said, wiping his brow. “It’s pretty much just food science. Mix some stuff here, put some stuff on other stuff, y’know.”

“You make it sound so easy,” John laughed. “See, if I was gonna do this, I’d never have thought to get strawberries for a salad just because they’re pretty.”

“I guess you gotta have sort of an artistic touch,” Dave smirked.

“Well, you’ve certainly got that covered,” John smiled warmly at him.

“Gosh, you sure know how to make a girl blush,” Dave drawled mockingly. John responded by kissing his cheek, after which Dave actually did blush. It made John chuckle, and Dave swatted at him playfully.

Once dinner was served, it became very quiet, partially due to the fact that the food was _delicious_ and John didn’t want to take a break from eating to talk, but also because he was thinking about what Dave had said earlier; _We should talk once you’re home from work_.

“So,” he started, at the exact same time that Dave said, “Well.” They both burst out laughing.

“No reason to make this uncomfortable,” Dave continued. “You’re pretty much my best friend, and we got no qualms about talkin’ about anything. Let’s make this easy. I like you. Like, a lot.”

Heat blossomed in John’s cheeks. He wasn’t quite sure that any of this was even real, and it had all developed so quickly since this morning, and his brain barely had time to process any of it.

“You’re doin’ that thinking-too-hard face, don’t think I don’t recognize it,” Dave called him out. “It ain’t that hard, you know. I like you, both as one of my best friends but also kinda more than that. And I really like kissin’ you. And I like waking up next to you in the mornings. D’you want me to keep going? Because I got a lotta words inside of me and they’re about to start sounding pretty redundant.”

“I… I mean,” John huffed, wishing he would stop stammering. “I like you a lot too. I’ve liked you a lot for a while now, and I guess I kinda realized it when you were in Texas, but it’s _weird_ , y’know? Like… I’ve never liked a guy before. But you’re not just a guy, you’re you, y’know what I mean?” He ended helplessly.

“I get what you mean,” Dave said reassuringly. “I’ve been there. Granted, it was a while ago, but still. You don’t gotta label it if you don’t want. I’m sure Rose was quick to put you in a category, assuming she knows.”

“Yeah, she was about ready to beat me over the head with the bisexuality baseball bat,” John rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “But I don’t even know if that’s true. I mean, I guess there’s some guys that aren’t too bad to look at, but like, girls are super pretty too? Everything is confusing,” John wrung his hands.

“Amen to that,” Dave smirked.

“But I do know that I like you, and I like spending time with you, and dammit if I don’t think you’re super attractive,” John admitted, his face so hot he felt as though he was going to pass out.

“That’s because I am,” Dave grinned. “But seriously. You mean a lot to me, and I think we’re pretty compatible, and I’m totally up for kissing you more, if that’s what you want.”

“That is what I want,” John said earnestly. “I dunno about… about dating, or anything, like I dunno if I wanna jump to the ‘boyfriends’ thing right away – god, it sounds weird saying it – but I agree, you’re one of the most important people in my life and if I’m gonna spend my time with someone I would want it to be you, one hundred percent.”

“Then screw the labels and let’s just go make out,” Dave grinned.

“Normally I’d say yes, but this steak is _so good_ , seriously,” John said, remembering the half-full plate in front of him. “I’m dead serious, please teach me how to cook.”

“Eat faster, nerd, I wanna kiss you,” Dave fake-pouted.

“Oh, boo hoo,” John stuck his tongue out at Dave. “For the rest of the evening, I am all yours, but you gotta share me with this steak for now.”

“I suppose I ought to be flattered,” Dave sighed, looking at him affectionately from across the table.

When John finished eating – a feat he drew out much longer than it should have taken, just to annoy Dave – they retreated back to the bedroom. As John closed the door behind him, he thought, _well, that could have gone way worse._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was so gay i got so embarrassed writing this honestly that's why it took so long  
> they were just being so gushy  
> this is so embarrassing jesus boys get a room  
> OH WAIT THEY DID
> 
> Anyway thanks y'all for putting up with 35 chapters of BS just to get to the johndavey part of this story!! My tumblr is [here](http://twinklyherbert.tumblr.com) if you wanna drop me a line or remind me to keep writing or anything!! Although this story is a l m o s t done! Hang in there for one more chapter, I think. Thanks to all of you for sticking with this story, more than two years after it started. I love all of you!!


	37. All Was Well

John straightened his tie. It had been a while since he’d worn a suit, but as one of two men in Rose’s wedding party, he needed to match the rest of the bridesmaids, so a black and lavender suit it was. He hadn’t been able to get his hair to behave (what else was new?) but John supposed he looked dashing enough.

Rose and Kanaya honestly couldn’t have picked a better day to get married. It was one of Seattle’s rare rainless late spring days, so Rose’s outdoor-wedding gamble had certainly hit the jackpot. The lighting was apparently great, too, or so Dave said. Not that Dave was taking photos. At Rose’s behest, he had decided to lay down the camera for a day. “You shouldn’t be _working_ at your own sister’s wedding,” she’d insisted. “I’ll hire someone out. For today, I don’t want you to be Dave The Photographer, I want you to be Dave My Brother.”

Dave, of course, looked incredible in black and lavender, and John had told him this many times over. Kanaya had absolutely forbade Dave to wear sunglasses in any of the pictures, so his red eyes were a little jarring to look at, but he wasn’t the focus for this wedding. The focus was the beautiful new married couple, smiling for the official cameras.

Rose had cried at least ten times since that morning, over everything from worrying that the flowers weren’t going to be set up in time to delivering her vows with quivering lips. But the puffiness of her eyes went unnoticed in the sunlight, and John and Dave stood back and watched her and her new wife pose for the photographers.

“Do you ever think about marriage?” Dave asked suddenly, not looking at John but rather staring fondly at his beaming sister.

John squinted at him through square-framed glasses. “What do you mean?”

“Like, is that something you want, eventually?” Dave asked, turning to face him. John furrowed his brow. It wasn’t really like Dave to be so direct, at least not without making three or four jokes first. Maybe it was the shot of apple whiskey that John knew was coursing through Dave’s bloodstream.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” John answered honestly. “Even after I graduated college I still felt like I was way too young to get married, and then I never really met anyone I was interested in getting married to.”

Dave dramatically clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Egbert.”

“Cut it out, you goof, you know I don’t mean you,” John laughed, swatting Dave gently with the back of his hand. Dave smirked.

“Not that I want to get married to you!” John backtracked hastily. “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t _not_ want to get married to you – and that’s _not_ to say that I’m asking you to marry m-”

“Calm down, nerd, it was just a question,” Dave grinned.

“And what about you?” John turned the question back to him. “Would you ever want to get married again?”

Dave’s expression didn’t change, but John saw the swift sadness pass through Dave’s unobscured eyes. “Maybe,” Dave answered carefully. “Maybe to the right person. If there was someone who made it worth it.”

John didn’t say anything, but merely entwined his fingers with his boyfriend’s. He felt Dave squeeze his hand, a gesture full of love and assurance and affirmation that made John’s heart swell even more than it already had today.

It had been over two years since Dave had last seen Terezi in Texas. John could hardly believe the incredible strides that Dave had made since then, and self-forgiveness seemed to be coming more and more easily to him. To say that John was proud of him would be the understatement of the century.

“By the derpy expression on your face, I can only assume your thoughts are being unnecessarily cheesy,” Dave said, nudging him and interrupting his reverie.

“Just thinking about you,” John sighed dramatically.

“Disgusting, get away from me,” Dave laughed, but John only squeezed his hand tighter. They were interrupted by the photographers waving them over for family photographs.

“We gotta go, we can’t be the assholes holding up the photographer, those are my least favorite kind of assholes,” Dave said, urging John to follow.

Dave’s first wedding gig after his own disastrous divorce had been trying. He’d insisted that he needed to get back on the horse, because wedding photography was lucrative and he didn’t want to panic during Rose’s wedding. But the first wedding he agreed to shoot had been enormous, he’d nearly had a mental breakdown during the ceremony, and it had taken John hours (and lots of ice cream) to coax him out of his near-disassociated state after he’d gotten home. But dealing with weddings was getting easier, and John noted that Dave was almost _comfortable_ standing next to Rose in the beautiful cream gown that Kanaya had designed herself.

The photos were done, and it was Kanaya’s turn to pose with her huge Israeli family, some of whom had flown all the way to Washington. Rose swept over to where John was standing, whereas Dave stayed over by Dirk and Roxy, who had also made the journey, so that he could catch up with them.

“She’s beautiful,” John commented, nodding towards Kanaya, who was resplendent in her own personally-designed gown.

“She really is,” Rose agreed enthusiastically. “This is everything I could ever have wished for. Getting to spend the rest of my life with her, and having everyone I love here to watch me make it official. Some of my clients are even here.”

“You’ve touched a lot of hearts,” John said.

“Oh, _you_ ,” Rose laughed.

“You have!” John insisted. “You’ve touched mine, at least.”

“You’re so gushy today,” Rose observed. “Speaking of, Dave seems to be enjoying himself.”

“I think he’s acclimated himself to the wedding scene so that he could fully be here for you,” John observed.

“I’m glad he didn’t feel uncomfortable about coming. I was completely prepared for him to have to step out,” Rose sighed. “But I’m unspeakably happy that he’s here.”

“I don’t think he’d miss it for the world.”

“I think you’re right,” Rose agreed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get my picture taken with all of Kanaya’s extended family, and my Hebrew is sort of shoddy, so wish me good luck.”

“Mazel tov, Rose,” John laughed. Rose beamed at him before acquiescing to the shouts of Kanaya’s aunts.

~

The reception was unlike any wedding that John had ever attended before. Other than the times he’d stayed at Rose and Kanaya’s for holiday dinners, he’d never eaten an entirely kosher multi-course meal, and though Kanaya was a great cook, the kosher caterers had really outdone themselves. Although cake-cutting apparently wasn’t typical in Jewish wedding receptions, as John was informed by one of Kanaya’s tiny great-aunts who had been seated at their table, this wedding wasn’t a strictly traditional Jewish wedding, so it was okay.

The course of the dinner included many glasses-clinks and sheepish kisses from the newlyweds. John suspected that Roxy was responsible for more than a few of them, but she was sitting a few tables away from him and Dave. However, when it came time to give speeches, she seemed remarkably put together and a little less inebriated than she’d been when John had met her, although he supposed the night was still young. When the time came for Dave’s speech, he delivered a rap that made reference so many sibling inside jokes and weird pop culture analogies that John was sure Kanaya’s Israeli family were seriously contemplating on how they’d allowed their daughter to marry into such ridiculousness.

And then it was John’s turn.

He stood, his hands shaking. This was nothing like speaking at his dad’s retirement party. That had been a piece of cake. He cleared his throat and began.

“Rose,” he said, directing his gaze to her. She was smiling warmly, holding Kanaya’s hand on the table.

“When I first met you four-ish years ago, that first time in our Starbucks, I had no idea that I would be entering into one of the best friendships of my life. Our meeting was supposed to be a simple transaction. I would give you Dave’s photo album that I’d found on the bus, you would thank me cordially, and we’d leave. God, that seems like such a long time ago.  But we exchanged names and greetings and suddenly you were asking about my life and my _god_ , I’ve never had someone be so immediately interested in knowing about me. You felt like the closest friend I’d ever had, and we’d only known each other for twenty minutes. You convinced me to book a flight to a state I’d never been to simply to return a possession to a man I’d never met. Thanks for that, by the way,” he laughed, looking pointedly at Dave. The audience gave a small chuckle.

“You’re always three or four steps ahead of me, knowing what I need to be doing before I’ve even conceived that I need to be doing something. It’s sometimes maddening that you know me this well, but it’s definitely worked out for me. I honestly don’t think I’d be where I am today without all of the love and support you have shown me throughout the last four years, especially when the going gets rough.”

John turned to Kanaya.

“Kanaya… I don’t even know how to express to you how lucky you are that you’re now married to someone who always keeps a clear head in a crisis. She’s always able to see through all the fog, and I know that she’ll be there to guide you when you’ve lost your way. But, of course, I hope that this isn’t something that she ever needs to do. I am so, so happy for you that Rose can now be your rock in the same way that she has been mine.”

He turned back to Rose.

“I’d say that we should get coffee this Saturday, just for old time’s sake, but I have a feeling your honeymoon might conflict with that, so I’m willing to put it off. Mazel tov, and I wish you the best in your marriage.”

John sat down to ringing applause. As the chatter of the evening came back into earshot, Dave leaned over to John.

“That was so wonderfully cheesy, it had me tearin’ up a little bit,” he said. True to his word, his eyes glimmered slightly, although his wide smile belied any sadness.

“You’re such a softie,” John smirked at him, taking a fingerful of frosting from his cake and swiping it over Dave’s nose. Dave made a show of trying to lick it off, which was unsuccessful.

“You’re such a child,” John admonished him, though he nudged his foot against Dave’s affectionately under the table.

Rose had also been a little bit nervous about including the hora in their festivities, but Kanaya had coaxed her into it. John thought that Dave and Roxy were about to die laughing at Rose’s startled expression when her chair was hoisted into the air by several of Kanaya’s enthusiastic relatives. John laughed and clapped along with the rest of the party.

After the celebration had died down, the two of them loaded into John’s sedan. The drive wasn’t long, but Dave was already dozing off the by time they got back home.

As they clambered sleepily into bed, John was thinking silently. He had Dave had been together for almost two years, and yet the marriage fever hadn’t kicked in yet. Maybe it never would. He didn’t think Dave would necessarily be too keen on the idea either, and he certainly wasn’t willing to push that particular envelope. But as he rolled over and wrapped his arm around Dave’s waist and buried his nose in Dave’s shoulder, he knew that all was well. He was happy like this, Dave was happy like this, and they didn’t have to worry about the future yet.

“Hey, John?”

“What’s up?” John murmured against his skin.

“That definitely beats any wedding I’ve ever been to. Even my own.”

“You’re a dork,” John sleepily muttered, nuzzling Dave with his nose.

Yes, all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, folks.
> 
> Thanks for sticking it out with me! You all are honestly so amazing.  
> [Here](tinylinguist.tumblr.com) is my tumblr if you wanna leave feedback or anything, but you don't have to. 
> 
> As for what comes next... I don't know. I haven't got any huge projects in mind, but I'm always taking suggestions, so feel free to message me on tumblr if you have any prompts! I can't guarantee they'll be as long-winded as HCCM is, or that I'll be punctual in writing them, but my inbox is always open.
> 
> It's been a pleasure writing this for you!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Spiderwebs in the Wind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322808) by [Thiyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thiyr/pseuds/Thiyr)




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